


Golden Age Pirate

by RaiderWolf



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 77,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiderWolf/pseuds/RaiderWolf
Summary: A man from the 21st century finds himself elected captain after leading an accidental mutiny after a deal with a mysterious woman lands him in the 1660's on an old sloop. Trapped in the past and able to live his dream of being a legend on the high seas, he will soon find heartbreak and disaster to prove this is no mere dream and the consequences might be lethal if he fails. Coupled with some truly savage pirates that ravage privateer and sailor alike and magical creatures of myth and legend are as real as he is, he truly is in for an adventure of a lifetime.“The goddess herself, bound in human form...fury or favor, you not be knowing, but when the mood strikes her, and it's her favor she bestows on a lucky sailor, well, you've heard...legendary.” Hector Barbossa
Relationships: OC/Elsa, OC/Megara
Comments: 12
Kudos: 4
Collections: Disney and NonDisney Prompts





	1. A Fantasy Fulfilled

**Author's Note:**

> Sid Meier’s Pirates - Pirates of the Caribbean – Disney - Dreamworks – Pixar – Self Insertion
> 
> This is both a Sid Meier's Pirates and Pirates of the Caribbean story, SMP for basic world setup and goals and POTC for overarching world. For example, mermaids(yes, they will be featured) will follow the rules setup within POTC: On Stranger Tides and not some other world type. I'll also get my ship types and abilities from the SMP video game so if I say a merchantman or a sloop and you have no idea of the ship size or type you can do a basic Google search and come up with an idea of what I have in mind. It will also give me limits to cannon counts and speed and thus make the story flow more smoothly as far as mechanics go.
> 
> It's also meant to be part of a longer series but for now this is stand-alone and while I did originally intend to have lots of sex scenes, probably won't write most of them because it's not something I like doing and makes me feel weird. I also don't have an intended upload schedule but am working on chapter six as I post this and will probably soon upload the other five chapters soon. For now, it's just something I'm throwing out there and yes, I'm using Disney to fill out the Sid Meier's Pirates world. For example, the first Governor is Eugene Fitzherbert from Tangled and Rapunzel is his wife, but they're older than their movie counterparts to allow for certain story elements to play out.
> 
> Hope you like it and look forward to reading your reviews.

May 11, 2019 = Saturday

~Owen Hunt~

  
  


It was a fluke I ended up in Miami during a convention on RC and model boating with time enough to enjoy it. By nature, I’m a truck driver hauling freight from any city in the United States down the highway to another city. The hours suck, the pay’s terrible what with every cop and politician trying to stick their hand down your wallet and it makes for lonely hours.

I also get no time for the hobbies I like, or even recreational time to just lay back and enjoy time. Most of my free time is in a sleeper, a box five foot long, seven foot wide and seven feet tall, resting from the fourteen hour day I just had and preparing for the next one. So, for fun I end up watching movies or reading, which is fun in and of itself but the lack of choices after months on the road make life dull. I can quote you Master and Commander, or any of a number of other movies from the nineties, but it doesn’t satisfy the longing I have for the sea.

Yea, I’m an odd one. Standing here on a pier watching the various ships as they sailed the water in front of me was calming on my spirit. Oh, I wished I could sail a ship like some of the ones I saw. Brigs, frigates, schooners, fluyts, galleons, and sloops of various sizes sailed with their sails unfurled and flags of various nations, kingdoms and historic pirates on display from their mainmasts made me feel at home.

So it was that I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t see the red haired woman come to stand beside me. It wasn’t until a ship-of-the-line I had been eyeing went behind her that I even noticed her. She was wearing loose-fitting tan capris and a striped white-and-blue tied on crop top shirt on her overly petite hourglass frame. She was a looker alright, five foot five and not a hundred pounds sopping wet. Her breasts were fairly ample and she had a lovely heart shaped butt and her skin was fair and creamy.

She give me a smile as she cocked her hip, then turned and walked away, her hips sashaying with each step. I watched her go, as she disappeared back into the crowd, then turned back to the boats as they sailed. I could never catch a woman like that, not as a down and broke truck driver. I might be six foot tall, well muscled and dark haired, but my muscles were covered with enough fat that people didn’t even think of me as being strong and most people shunned me for it.

I didn’t care much what people thought though, as I had long ago quit caring about what other people thought of my physical appearance. I knew I wasn’t the best looking guy in the world, but in my long sleeve western shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots, I could intimidate the best of them. I often wondered if that was because of the clothes or because of the persona I seemed to emulate as a cowboy, even though I never wore a hat.

Turning back to the water, I watched the ships sail for as long as I could. It was eventually my hunger that forced me to leave the pier and I headed back into the convention center in search of a meal. I ended up at an eatery featuring recipes and staples on sailing ships and was directed to a picnic like table and given a wooden keg to sit on. Food here was just what was served and had just gotten my food when that red head from earlier sat across from me.

“It’ s not everyday that someone turns me down on an offer,” she told me as I bit into a piece of hard tack and began to chew while eyeing the bacon. They had bacon back then?

“I’m smart enough to know when I’m out of my class,” I responded after swallowing my bite of hard tack. “Besides, I came to the pier for the ships. Lord I wish I could go back to when men sailed the seas on real ships and not these steel monstrosities of today.”

“They lack a certain charm,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t take you for a man of the sea at first.”

I shook my head, smiling at a thought. “I find a peace in it,” I admitted. “It’s like watching them earlier, it calms something in me to watch a ship sail silently across the water.”

“Have you ever thought about sailing in real life?” she asked me, and my smile turned bittersweet.

“I have, but I got into truck driving instead,” I told her. “My seas are concrete and earth now, and I traded silent wind for rumbling diesel. It doesn’t calm me like a ship, but anymore its a fantasy.”

“Sea fantasies are my business,” she said with a wicked grin. “What would you give for a fantasy to come true?”

“What would you want?” I asked back, as I continued to enjoy my meal. It was filling me up fast, and soon I would be wandering the area again, but as I looked at the young lady in front of me, I couldn’t help the stirring of lust in me. She was definitely the type of woman I longed for with her perfect figure and dreamy looks, and I was certainly now interested in fulfilling my personal fantasies with her.

“Nothing, really,” she said with a big smile on her face. “You’re the kind of person I like to do things for, true men of the sea. I bet if you were a pirate in the 1600’s you would have ruled the Caribbean.”

I smiled. She was teasing me! “Best thing is to know how to approach an enemy,” I told her and she leaned in close and put her head on her hands as she smiled at me. “Approaching them from their downwind allows you to pounce quickly with several shots as you tack back and forth in their blind spot. Also, giving them a round or two of grapeshot when you get close enough will take care of any enemy on the deck allowing your boarders a chance to take the main deck and helm with little difficulty. Since that’s usually where the captain is, the rest of the crew will give up once he’s dead or captured as they have no idea what to do without him.”

“You sound ferocious enough,” she said, finally extending her hand. “But what will you do when you go board to board with a bigger ship? Surely there’s no way to win?”

“There’s always a way to win,” I countered. “And it might cost you your ship in doing it, but if it means the difference between losing a brig to acquire a ship-of-the-line, it’d be worth it. Depending on the circumstances, the best thing to do is to allow it to catch up or run right along its railing and allow your men to storm the deck in force instead of trying to go gun to gun with her; it’s a fight you’ll lose.”

“A surprise attack then?” she asked and I nodded.

“Especially if neither side has the wind at their back,” I said and she leaned in closer. “But don’t ever try to turn back to fight if they have the wind behind them, especially with a competent commander. He just has to lay back and pelt you with his broadside until he breaks ya.”

“So, want your fantasy fulfilled?” she asked with a sly wink of her eye as she extended her hand.

  
  


~ December 12,1659 = Friday ~

  
  


Thinking I was about to get lucky, I reached over the table and took her offered hand and stood up, just to get knocked back down again. Everything about my situation looked different, primarily as I was no longer in a restaurant, but on the deck of a single masted ship with gaff sails. Even my clothes were different, as I was no longer wearing the jeans and long sleeve shirt I had in Miami, but a pair of blue cloth trousers and white cotton shirt. I had on a pair of buckled shoes, and around my waist was a belt

The man who stood over me was dressed in purple with a large felt hat and he sneered at me. “Back to work, swab,” he ordered, then kicked me again so that I fell into a bucket of water.

Enraged at being treated so callously, I charged the man and we both fell amid a group of men who were on their knees as they swabbed at the deck. Several more men drug me from the man in purple, and several more drew cutlasses and pointed them at me. I quit struggling as I saw the cutlasses aimed at me, but movement behind those men caught my eye.

More sailors were pulling swords, and with a yell charged at the men who were holding me. I stomped on the instep of the man on my right, then used my strength to throw the hobbling man to the deck. The man on my left let go, and scrambled for a weapon. A nearby man tossed me a cutlass and I snatched it out of the air just as the man who had been holding my right arm got back to his feet. The man went wide-eyed at seeing the cutlass and I slashed it across his chest to leave a deep bloody gash. The man fell to a knee and I ran the sword through his chest, killing him.

Turning back to the melee in full swing, I saw the man in purple, who my brain now recognized as the captain, run up a set of stairs to a small cannon. Fearing that he would turn it on the crew, I ran after him and got there just as he was about to light the fuse. I slashed at his wrist, but the captain yanked his hand back before my blow landed. He then threw the candle towards me, and I ducked which gave the captain enough time to arm himself with a cutlass of his own.

Facing off sword to sword, I dueled the captain while the crew fought on. Slash, parry, feint, dodge, slash; me and the captain seemed evenly matched as we fought across the poop deck. It wasn’t until the captain feinted left, that I got the upper hand as his foot slipped on a rope that was laying loose on the deck. Falling to the deck, I pounced on the downed captain and kicked his cutlass from his hand, then put the point of my own cutlass to his bike. Sighing in defeat, the captain spread his hands in surrender.

Looking around, I saw the crew celebrating over the corpses of other sailors. Raising my own the crew cheered loudly, I gave a huzzah with the rest of the men. I looked at each of the cheering men, my face going slack as I realized we had just successfully mutinied against the captain. Several men came up the stairs with a length of rope, and they lashed the former captain’s arms together. I personally wanted to puke.

“Alright, everyone,” a man with a drooping mustache said as he waved his arms for everyone to calm down. “We need to elect a new captain!”

“I say we elect that man there,” one of the crew said, pointing a finger at me while I tucked the cutlass in the belt around my waist and re-chewed my hardtack.

“Aye!” another man said, and the men cheered on. The man with the droopy mustache waved his arms and calmed the men down again, then turned to me.

“What be yer name, Captain?” he asked me.

“Owen Hunt,” I told them and they all cheered.

“Orders, captain?” the mustached man asked.

“Clear the deck and bury the dead,” I said, and several of the men began to move the dead men from the main deck. I went to check the navigational charts, finding a pin in it marking our location just northwest of the Caribbean. Apparently, we were about a hundred miles out from the first islands.

I felt a man looking over my shoulder and finding the mustached man watching me, decided to ask him his name. “Anthony Stiles,” he replied to my question. “I wasn’t too happy with the way things were going with Burch, anyway.”

“Me either,” I said as I studied the map. “Any recommendations for a port-of-call?” I asked him and he shook his head as he studied the map with me. I was hoping he had something in mind for helping with our current situation because I had nothing.

“Saint Eustatius is closest, but Danish owned,” he said as he looked at our map. “I don’t much care to consort with the Danes, and the nearest English port would be Antigua.”

“But an English port sees us hung as pirates,” I told him. “We mutinied against the proper captain and owner of this ship and took it for ourselves. I don’t much like doing a jig on a hempen stage,” I told him, using the old naval euphemism for being hung

“Nae, me either,” he agreed. “At least with a Danish Letter of Marque we won’t face the gallows.”

“Set our course then,” I told him and his drooping mustache seemed to pick up a bit. “I’ll have you as Quartermaster, if you want the position.”

“Aye, that I do,” he said as he moved to the helm. My nerves calmed somewhat, now that I had an out, but I needed to know what I had so I could do battle with it.

Looking out over the ship, I decided to tour the vessel, assessing my new ship and its capabilities. Standing at the edge of the raised poop deck, and looking out over the main deck, I counted the eight cannons we had, and shook my head in a forlorn way. It wasn’t enough to take on a big ship, but it would allow us to fight any merchant vessel we came across, but we did have room for four more cannons along the rails.

As I moved along the ship, I couldn’t help but feel thankful to the red haired woman who made this a reality. She had indeed given me my fantasy, but I couldn’t help but wonder why and at what cost. I mean, yeah, I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it did make me wonder as I moved down to the berthing deck and where the dead were being prepped for burial.

The dead men were wrapped in their blankets, while the crew worked to cocoon them inside. I had never seen the process done before, and I watched for several minutes without anyone noticing me. I eventually moved on, going down one more deck to find the primary hold and extra rigging. It was so small it gave me a sense of claustrophobia and I headed back up to the berthing deck and moved aft.

It was here I found the galley, and a small single cell for the brig. The former captain was just now being escorted in by a pair of sailors, and I watched as they undid his hands and removed the rope from his arms. He sneered again at me, and I smirked back. Once the men had exited the brig and locked the door on our former captain, did he address me.

“I’ll see you hang for this,” he growled.

“That’s why I intend to head for Saint Eustatius and get a Letter of Marque from the Danes there,” I told him and he charged the bars. “Once I have my Letter of Marque, I’ll turn you over to the Danes.”

“You lily-livered deck ape!” he roared. “I’ll get revenge on you for this!”

“Try,” I said calmly, even though he rattled the bars in his bid to escape. “Until then, you will wait calmly in your cell or I’ll tie a pair of chain shot to your legs and drop you over the side.”

The former captain quit rattling the bars at that, but his eyes would have burned holes in my soul if he had but the power as he glared at me. I left him to stew in his hate, going back up to the main deck to see the crew had started bringing up the dead and were forming them into lines along the railing. It was a somber affair, and many a man seemed teary eyed at the prospect of burying a friend at sea.

I moved aft, entering the Captain’s Cabin, mainly as it was mine now, to take stock of what I did and didn’t have. The cabin itself was small, only about ten feet long and the width of the stern wide. There was a twin sized bed in the starboard aft corner, a dresser/wardrobe combination next to it. At the foot was a sea chest, open to reveal a few personal items that belonged to the former captain.

On the port wall, there was a large map with various countries colored differently. It wasn’t until I studied it a bit that I recognized it as a political map and that any colonies or territories a kingdom had were likewise colored as their main country. The Caribbean had only four shades in it, and I traced their ruling kingdoms back to Spain, Great Britain, France and the Danes, the last who only had a handful of colonies in the New World.

I had only begun to search when Stiles knocked on my cabin door. “Enter,” I said, remembering I was captain now and that he likely wouldn’t enter without direct permission.

“Sir, crew are asking if you want to lead services for the slain sailors,” he said in a somber tone.

“I suppose that’s my duty now,” I said, as I eyed the dusty Bible near the door. “I’ve never led a service before, nor attended one aboard a ship.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he told me as he handed me the dusty Bible. “Open it and read some out of it to assuage the fears of the men and their poor souls. Nary a one will stand and admit it, but we all fear the coming hell that awaits us for what we do.”

“Don’t believe in redemption?” I asked him as I thumbed it open to see the familiar King James Version I grew up with.

“I do, but not right now,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “As a boy, I attended church with my ma. It was there I learned the Commandments and I still remember to this day the sixth through tenth ones.”

“Stealing, adultery, murder; what is life without the simple things?” I joked with him.

“Mighty unbearable in one’s youth,” he admitted with a chuckle.

I finally found the book I was looking for, the book of Psalms and flipped it to the twenty third chapter. For burying someone, I could think of no better passage to read at a burying as I’ve heard that one read at many a funeral myself.

“I think I’m ready,” I told him, and we headed outside. The crew were lined up along the beam of the ship, the cocoons of the dead lined up along the rail. Every head was bowed as we approached, and Stiles took his position at the other side of a board to be at the head of the line.

“Gentleman, we gather here today to lay the souls of these men to rest in the arms of our Father,” I told them as I opened the Bible to the spot I had found earlier. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” I said as I began reading the familiar verses aloud for the crew. Each man was respectful while I read, a few raising their heads slightly before dropping them again. They were the ones I suspected needed this the most, and I didn’t stop until I finished the last word and added, “Amen.”

With that one word, Stiles tipped the board over the board and dumped the dead sailor into the sea. The other crew gathered along, each body getting two still living sailors to tote it to the board to be dumped feet first into the sea. In no time at all, the crew had the dead in the water and the board they had been using was taken below decks and the other climbed into the rigging to tend to the sails.

I moved back to the poop deck, the highest furthest aft deck on a ship and watched the men move about the rigging. I should admit, I knew nothing about actually sailing a ship and was watching the more experienced men around me sail it. A few things I did know though, was to keep an eye on the heading and to always mark noon. Problem was, I didn’t see a clock anywhere, so longitude was going to be a problem, never mind our latitude.

Checking the navigational desk near the helm, I found a variety of tools whose use I could only guess at, a large leather-bound book, a black glass bottle with cork stopper which would be the inkwell, and several feathers with sharpened ends. One thing I did find in the desk that I did know anything about was a collapsing telescope in a box. Pulling it out and extending it fully revealed it to be a two draw, meaning that there were two brass extensions coming out of the main body of the telescope. It wasn’t all that powerful, maybe four times more powerful than the naked eye, but it was better than nothing.

I scanned the horizon with it, not finding anything to note. Collapsing it back to its single tube, I put it back in its box and took out the leather book. I opened it to find the ship’s ledger, and that the ship’s name was ‘ _Badger_.’ Pulling the inkwell and a feather out, I flipped to the last page. The last entry was marked 12 December, 1659, and was about failing morale making me snicker. Yeah, I say it fell to mutinous really fast.

Dipping the pen, I marked in my best cursive a new entry using the same date. With a fresh dip, I marked in, “Crew mutinied against captain. New commander is Captain Owen Hunt. Setting course for Saint Eustatius.” I looked it over, letting the ink dry before shutting the book. Stiles was back at the helm, and I shut the inkwell away with the book.

“How’s the wind?” I asked him, sending my gaze into the sheets.

“Following nicely,” he said as he looked at the compass mounted behind the wheel. “We should be making good time to Saint Eustatius.”

“Aye, be nice,” I told him. “Any family back home to write to when we make port?”

“Just a sister,” he said, then smiled as his eyes grew distant. “I write her every Christmas. She leaves me letters at an inn in Plymouth, and I return to pick them up when I can. She lives in Devon with her husband, he’s a farmer there.”

“Noble profession for a landlubber,” I said, and Stiles began to laugh.

“That it be,” he said. “I been there once, about a year ago now. She was fat with child then, and she glowed with health. Ye any family to return to?”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I lost my parents not too long ago,” I lied, not wanting to reveal I was from the future. “Been a wanderer ever since.”

“So no one to mourn you when you pass,” he said and I frowned. It was definitely a nerve with me, that I didn’t have any family to mourn me, even in my own time. My parents were truly dead, killed in an accident in New York.

“Unfortunately not,” I said, as I scanned the water. “I been looking to get married myself, and starting a family, but my wandering has left me no time to court a lady,” I told him, and meant every word. I really wanted to get married, but the life of an over-the-road truck driver left me no time to get to know a woman better.

“Best of luck to ye on that,” he said, changing the subject away from its grim topic. “Ever met a girl worth marrying?”

“Once,” I told him, my voice growing soft. “Back before I began my wandering there was a girl in my hometown. She was short, blonde, fiery temper but she never had eyes for me.”

“Seen that type before,” he said as he adjusted our course. “All too common for sailors like us.”

“Aye,” I said, a comfortable silence falling between us. The sun began to set, and not knowing where my sea chest was or even where my hammock was hung, decided that it would be best if I didn’t make myself look foolish. “Do me a favor Stiles,” I said as I walked down the stairs to enter the Captain’s cabin. “Have my chest brought to my room.”

“Aye sir,” he said, and I entered the cabin. Glancing around, I decided to pack up the old cabin’s personal affects and packed them in his chest. The only thing I didn’t pack were items that I figured were instrumental to the operation of the ship.

Two crew soon knocked on the cabin door, and I let them in. They carried a chest between them and set it down near the door. “Take that chest down to the hold,” I said, pointing it out to them. The men nodded politely, and carried it out with them.

I closed the door, then knelt down to examine my chest. Opening it up, I pulled out two pairs of pants, some socks, a belt and several shirts. In fact, it was the same items I carried in my duffle bag in my semi. A small box inside my chest turned out to carry a few bars of soap, a tin marked shaving soap and a brush, straight razor, and small mirror.

The mirror I used to inspect my face, finding it younger than I was in Miami. It was still me, just a me back in college. My eyes were still the same hazel, and my hair was still it’s usual dark brown color. I also still lacked facial hair, meaning I shaved with the shaving supplies I carried.

I set it all aside, then pulled out several books, some of which were badly worn. Looking at the inside title page, I found it was the complete works of Shakespeare. Another book I cracked open was an English version of Don Quixote, while the others proved to contain various poems.

Setting the books aside, I looked in my chest again to find a blanket covering an object in the bottom. When I pulled the blanket off, I was shocked to see my old guitar laying in the bottom. I hefted the light instrument out, strumming it lightly to find it was still in tune though the strings were different. I laid it on the bed, before returning to my chest to check its contents one more time. Another box caught my eye and I pulled it out. The box contained a wooden recorder, which I had learned to play in fifth grade thanks to a mandatory music class. Putting it to my lip, I started to playing “Go Tell Aunt Rhody,” finding that the sound was much as I remembered it being.

After I finished the song, I put it away as it was getting dark in the cabin. The last thing in the chest was a miniature wooden barrel with a leather pouch tied over the end.. Setting my recorder back in it’s box, I pulled the mini barrel out and undid the pouch to find it was nearly full of silver coins. I didn’t recognize the style, but I had a small fortune of them. Had to be hundreds of them.

Deciding it was better to just get some sleep to the lateness of the day, I put the recorder in its box back in my chest. Wrapping the guitar, I put that back in the chest as well to make sure it wasn’t damaged. The clothes I put away in the dresser, along with my shaving kit. The only thing I could think of was that all the items I carried in my truck that had historical counterparts had been put in my sea chest. Loved my recorder, though maybe not as much as my guitar.

With everything settled, for the time being, I sat on the bed, which was comfortable at least, and slipped my shoes off, then my socks. Never having been one to strip further than that in case I had to get out of the truck in a hurry, I laid back in the bed and covered myself in the cover. In no time at all, I was fast asleep.


	2. Becoming a Privateer

13 December, 1659 = Saturday

  
  


I was startled awake in the middle of the night by the quietness of it all. It took me a minute to realize that the reason I didn’t hear the rumble of a Detroit Series 60 motor was that I was about three hundred twenty years before the first such motor was made. Feeling rested, I put on a fresh pair of socks, leaving the others to air and put my shoes on.

Stepping out of my cabin, the crew was busy trimming the sails, keeping them full of wind as we sailed along. I walked around to the poop deck, finding Stiles still at the helm though his eyes were drooping heavily. I shook my head, even as his head drooped forward. It was a classic case of overwork, but I couldn’t help but smile as I’d been there too many times myself. The poor guy had likely stayed up all night piloting the ship for me, and he needed his rest.

“I admire you for your dedication,” I told him, making him jerk awake once again. “But go lay down before you drop to the deck.”

“Aye, sir,” he said as I took the wheel.

He went below, and I handled the wheel for awhile, keeping us headed southwest. Several hours into it, I handed the wheel off to another sailor and began to check the area around us for reefs. An hour later, it was my look-out in the crows nest that signaled land. Going to my navigational charts, I studied the island we should be coming up on, and how best to approach port.

In the end, I decided to keep the wind on our left so that when we passed the bottom point of the island, we could put it to our backs. “Helm, steer southeast, and keep that island on our starboard side.”

“Aye, captain,” he said, steering left. The island grew closer, so I moved towards the bow with my spyglass and kept scanning our path for reefs and sandbars. Several times I saw the capping water and had the current helmsman steer us around it.

Near midday, we seemed to pass the southeastern point and we turned north west, and continued to follow the island’s waterline until we saw a ship passing at a distance in front of us. I scanned it with my spyglass, seeing an orange flag I didn’t immediately recognize. I knew the Spanish flag was yellow, and English was red and white, so figured the orange flag was likely Dutch. That put us not far from the port, which was good. I wanted to get there.

As the shadows started to grow again, I could make out the silhouettes of a few buildings in the distance through my spyglass. Soon, the port was easy to see, and we started to sail right in. I had the crew begin to lower the mainsails just as soon as we did, and Stiles arrived on deck just as I had them drop the last of the sails and we bumped dock and a man stood there with a ledger.

“Ship and captain’s name?” he asked me, opening the ledger on a post and pulling a quill and ink bottle from a pocket.

“Badger,” I told him, remembering it from the log. “I am Captain Owen Hunt.”

“Welcome to Saint Eustatius, Captain Hunt,” he said as he continued to dab his quill in ink and write in the ledger. “Purpose of your visit?”

“To acquire a Letter of Marque,” I told him, deciding to be truthful in my intentions and also glad that we had found the island we sought.

“Then you’ll need to see Governor Fitzherbert at his mansion,” he told me as he finally stoppered the ink and put it away. “Enjoy your stay, captain.”

“Thank you, good sir,” I said as the guy closed his ledger and left. I turned back to my crew and nodded to them.

“Alright, lads,” I started, unsure of what to say or do. “We’re in for the night. If you have coin to buy drink or women with, feel free to go ashore but be back in the morning! If you get yourself locked up in jail when I set out, I’ll leave you behind. Questions?”

No man did, and I led my crew off to the pier. A group of women stood by the way into town, most holding signs that I think were names of ships. Those that didn’t have signs came by asking my my crew if they had heard of the ship their man sailed on, and that they were overdue to return. I walked on, with no woman asking me any questions probably as they sensed I was the captain and wasn’t to be bothered.

A man in a fanciful suit was just getting out of a carriage as we neared the road, and he held up his hand. “Are any of you men the captain?” he asked.

“I am,” I said, approaching him as my crew continued to walk by. “Captain Owen Hunt of the Badger.”

“I am Governor Fitzherbert’s personal assistant, Simmons,” he said as he held the carriage door. “He is currently very busy today and has sent me to bring you to his mansion to speak with him. If you would, sir.”

“Thank you, Mister Simmons,” I said as I climbed into the carriage. Simmons climbed in behind me, and they drove me to the mansion.

As we stepped out, I could see that the term mansion was probably a loose term in the past, as it was really nothing more than a very large house, maybe a hundred by a hundred fifty with gardens surrounding it. Simmons led me inside, up the stairs to a study where he stopped at the door, then motioned me inside.

“Governor Fitzherbert will be with you shortly,” he said as he took a post just outside the door.

I nodded, going inside and he shut the door behind me. Several bookcases lined the wall, some filled with books, others with rolls of paper. Just outside the door, a brown haired woman in a pink and lavender dress sat to an easel, painting upon it and occasionally dabbing more color onto her brush.

She didn’t notice me until I moved closer, and I could see her better. She was petite, maybe in her thirties or early forties with laugh lines around her lips. Her dress also had golden flowers sewn into it, but not a single splotch of paint marred it. She smiled at me, then nodded to her painting.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” she said, her voice light and airy.

“Yes, it is,” I said, nodding in appreciation. “You do good work.”

“Are you here to see my husband?” she asked me as she continued to paint. I nodded my head yes, and she continued on. “Well, Governor Ryder should be here pretty soon.”

“I thought the governor was named Fitzherbert,” I told her and she laughed cheerily.

“Everyone does, though I don’t know why,” she told me which added to the confusion. “It was Eugene Fitzherbert that they hung, not Flynn Ryder. He was my beau for over a year, you don’t think I would know the difference?”

“I’m sure you would, Miss Ryder,” I said as she laid the easel aside and dropped the brush in a cup of water. “Heading somewhere?”

“It’s getting about time for the boys to get out of school,” she said, as she cleaned her brush with a rag. “I like to read to the younger ones. Reminds me of my two boys.”

“Ah,” I said, smiling at her. “The young have left the home and it makes you lonely.”

“Yes,” she said, blushing at the thought. “I do get to see my boys. Maximus, the oldest, is an officer in the army, and Pascal is in the Navy. You never seen two different boys, but both know to come home to see their mother when they pass this way and they write all the time.”

“They were raised well, then,” I told her as she set her paints to the side.

“They were,” she said as we went into the study where she selected a book off the shelf. “Well, I need to go, mister...” she said, trailing off as she searched for a name.

“Hunt,” I told her, bowing and taking her proffered hand to kiss it. “Captain Hunt of the _Badger_.”

“I’m Rapunzel,” she said as she held the book close to her bosom. “Well, fair winds and a following sea, captain,” she said, offering me the traditional parting words as she left me to wait for the governor.

I didn’t have long to wait as another man soon entered the room. “Hello, captain,” he said, as he passed me to go sit behind his desk. “It’s not often we get an English ship in our port. Care to explain?”

“We mutinied against our captain and we are loathe to sail into an English port for fear of being hung,” I told him simply. “It is my desire to seek a Letter of Marque to lend legality to our actions.”

“Well, that’s quite easy,” he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a leather roll and laid it out. Unrolling it, I could see it was a Letter of Marque. “Name?”

“Captain Owen Hunt,” I told him and he wrote my name on the document. He then signed it, then took a red stick of wax and began to melt it before letting it drip on the bottom. Once he had a small circle of wax built up, he then reached into a box and pulled a seal and stamped it into the wax. Putting everything away, he then rolled the document up and handed it to me.

“There you go captain,” he said, and I took the document and held it under my arm. “I must advise you though in the future to sail under a Dutch flag if you’re going to be taking ships for the king. You may also fly a buccaneer flag, but it has to be under the Dutch flag.”

“Thank you, Governor Fitzherbert,” I said, then shook my head. “Or is it Ryder?”

“I see you’ve been talking to my wife,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s Fitzherbert. Flynn Ryder was my captain and her beau back in 1644, when he was hung by pirates for attempting to rescue her. Yes, we do look a lot alike, but Ryder was more of a show-off and loved his theatrics. He also was big on putting bits of wax on his nose to make it look bigger than it was.”

“So, why does she not realize the difference?” I asked and he sighed and relaxed into his chair.

“Because, she was badly mistreated by them,” he started to explain. “There was nothing I could do to stop them from hanging Ryder. I was one of the only ones not taken captive, and the only member of the shore party that returned. It also meant that I couldn’t just stroll into their headquarters to get a closer look at what was going on, but I’ve seen enough men hung to know he was dead. I had to run to escape a patrol, and didn’t make it back until it was almost morning and they had partied themselves into a good drunk and passed out where they lay.

“That’s when I found her,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “She was in a grass hut in the middle of the ‘festivities,’ laying naked in a bed with a large pirate. I stabbed him twice in the back, then woke Rapunzel and got her dressed. She thought I was Flynn come to rescue her, and ever since, she’s refused to call me Eugene. She even made me marry her as if I were Ryder, though her father didn’t want to. It’s the only time she’s ever threatened to harm anyone, and it was only to harm herself.

“Her father relented, I guess for his daughters sake,” he continued on as I stood there in silence. “I do like her, care for her even, but it strains me sometimes having to pretend I’m Ryder for her. Most everyone that deals with us know the story, and people have said I need to lock her away, but I can’t do it to her.”

“It’s a terrible thing to do to a person,” I told him and he nodded his head as he dabbed at his eyes. “The young boys she was going to read to?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “In fact, they’re in the best hands on the island. She’s not dangerous, even if she can’t handle the truth about Ryder.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him and he turned to look out the doors where Rapunzel had been painting.

“Me too,” he said. “I met her once, when Ryder was still alive. We used to have this bar called the Ugly Duckling in Saint Martin that our crew hung out in when we were in port. Ryder brought her to the bar one evening and she stayed for a few hours before they left. She commented then on how we look alike, but we’re not related.

“I guess I’ll continue to care for her,” he said, his voice growing sad. “At least we had two great kids together. Some things worked out at least.”

“One last thing before I go,” I said, and the governor turned to look at me. “We never killed the previous captain. I have him locked in our brig.”

“I’ll send Simmons back down with a detachment of soldiers,” he said as he stood up. “We’ll have him imprisoned. You see, we got a war going on with the English, the Spanish and the French. So unless they’re flying a Dutch flag, they are fair game. Just bring me the ship’s log of any ship you can’t bring back to get credit for the sinking. We had a few unscrupulous privateers in the past try to claim more than they actually sank. They got drunk and caught, and I had them imprisoned for five years.”

“I hope they learn their lesson.”

“Me too,” he said as we walked out. “See, we award promotions to captains who take ships of the enemy. Privateers often try to make a living taking the shipping of the enemy and sale their cargo in friendly ports, earning both gold and a career. The truly great ones can even earn titles of nobility from the king, and even gain the kings ear. It also doesn’t hurt that some of us governors have beautiful young daughters looking for a wealthy man to wed. My counterpart in Curacao has a lovely young daughter who’s almost ready to marry. A fine young lad like you would have a good chance if you can prove yourself a capable privateer.”

“Thank you for the advice, Governor Fitzherbert,” I said as we approached the door. Simmons was waiting at the carriage, probably to take me back to the docks.

“Advice, as always, is free,” he said with a smile. “It’s following it that costs you a hand and an eye. Simmons, take Captain Hunt back to his ship. He has an English captain in his brig that needs to be imprisoned until we can send him back to Saint Kitts.”

“Yes, sir,” he said then opened the door to allow me into the carriage.

“Safe travels, captain,” the governor called, before going back in the mansion.

With nothing left to do, I climbed in the carriage with Simmons climbing in behind me and we went back to the docks. Simmons just pulled a pair of guards from their post as he followed me back to the ship, where I released the former captain to the guards. His chest in hand, he walked quietly off my ship and to prison.

“Thank you, captain,” Simmons said, as he too departed, and I went into my private quarters to stow my new Letter of Marque in my sea chest.

I eyed the barrel of coins, and not knowing their value, took a large double handful with me in my pocket. I could only hope that they were the equivilent of dollars in my time, and were universally accepted wherever I went. Setting the coins in the leather pouch that normally covered the barrel, I ended up tying it off on my belt, as my pants had no pockets, and walked back to the deck.

It seemed odd just leaving the ship without anyone guarding it, so I made up my mind that I would only briefly hang out in town before I returned to guard it myself. It would also allow me time to figure out my next move, some of which I thought about on my way into town.

With a Letter of Marque, I was now a recognized privateer for the Dutch, though my ship sailed an English flag. I had to remedy that, so I stopped by a merchant and purchased a proper flag to be delivered the next day. The coins I carried turned out to be pieces of eight, a Spanish coin that was indeed accepted nearly everywhere, and the flag only cost me five pieces.

Moving on, I found a sign for a tavern and headed to it when movement in the alley right outside caught my eye. It turned out to be a tall, long brown haired woman who was bent over wiping her mouth with a cloth. I moved a bit closer, seeing she had been puking on the ground. She straightened when my shoes sent a rock skittering, and she cocked a hip and smiled at me. She was dressed in a purple dress, with a bit of cleavage showing and bare arms. I thought it immodest for the time, but said nothing.

“Fine gentleman you are,” she spoke saucily while smiling at me, completely hiding the fact I could see what she had for lunch on the ground behind her. “Rushing to help a lady.”

“You seemed to have it under control,” I told her, remembering the women of my time not liking it when a man tried to interfere with their problems, whether or not they needed or asked for it.

“You’re right, I can handle it,” she said as she moved closer. I backed up into the street, allowing her room, and she turned to face the sign and sighed. “So, headed inside where you can buy a woman’s time or headed back to your ship.”

“I was headed inside,” I told her, making her stop and look back at me. “But if you’re willing...”

“I’m willing,” she said coming back to stand beside me. “Need forty pieces, but I’d be yours all night.”

“Forty pieces, huh,” I said, thinking it might be a bit high. Not that I knew what the price was for buying a ladies attentions for the whole night, but forty seemed high. “If you needed that many coins, I would have thought you’d have a man to provide for you.”

I knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say as she dropped every ounce of her saucy attitude and sagged against the wall before looking at her feet. “I did, once,” she finally said softly. “Did you see the women holding signs when you left the dock?”

“I did,” I told her, remembering the women well.

“They’re looking for news of their husbands and sons,” she told me, still not looking up. “Up to a month ago, I was among them, looking for news of the _Dreamer’s Delight_.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing the new she got must not have been good.

“Thank you,” she said, finally looking up with a tear in her eye. “I got the word from a sailor that the ship had been attacked by Captain Hook and was sank with no survivors.”

“Any children?” I asked and she shook her head.

“No, and maybe it’s best that we didn’t,” she continued on. “I couldn’t imagine trying to raise a child without him, now that he’s...not...” she tried to say before she began crying.

I held her close, allowing her to vent her frustrations into my shoulder before she pushed me away. “You’re a kind enough man, why are you getting your fun in a place like this?”

“I’m too much of a wanderer to settle down, just yet,” I told her and she smiled. “So, if you’re willing, why don’t we go back to my ship and enjoy the night?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a few pints of rum before we get to the fun part,” she said, and I smiled at her, knowing it hurt to lose your loved ones. I never had a taste for alcohol myself, it always tasted terrible to me, but I’d not let hre sell herself to me while she mourned her husband.

“Well, first we go to the merchant down the way here and get us a barrel or two, then we head back to my ship,” I said and she smiled and linked her arm in mine.

“Lead the way, sailor boy,” she smiled as she gave me a playful pat on the rump.

“My name is Owen Hunt,” I told her and she gave me another playful pat as we walked down the street.

“Megara,” she said, keeping close beside me.

We got a barrel of rum, mostly because Megara said she didn’t need but a few pints and my protests that I wouldn’t need any at all, which Megara threw her eyebrows up at. Heading back to my ship with a barrel on one shoulder and Megara under the other, she laughed at seeing my small sloop.

“Reminds me of the _Dreamer’s Delight_ ,” Megara said as she saw my ship as we walked down the dock.

“How many cannon does she run?” I asked her and she smiled fondly as she ran a hand over a cannon as she passed.

“Sixteen,” she said, as I kept us walking to the Captain’s Cabin. The barrel wasn’t all that heavy, not to me at least, but it did hurt the shoulder after a while. “He had a hundred men following him and Phil to sea on his last trip out.”

“I don’t have but eight cannons right now, but I can field twelve, I figure,” I said, and Megara turned to look at the ship once more.

“Hmm, well if you happen to be any good with your privateering, maybe one day we can do it on something bigger,” she said snarkily, and I couldn’t help but feel it was a jab at my manhood.

“I got something bigger for you,” I replied as she opened the door and stepped inside.

Her breath caught momentarily as she caught sight of the bed, but she turned and let her gaze go to other places. I walked around her, setting the barrel on my desk where the spout would be easy accessed with a cup. Megara found a mug that the former captain kept and poured herself a full one, drowning most of it in one go after looking at the bed again.

“You know, you never settled on the price,” she said, refilling her mug.

“I believe you said forty pieces,” and she giggled.

“Well, that’s what that scrooge of a landlord wants for rent this month,” she said, then sighed again before taking another slug of rum. “Rents due in three days and I’m currently short that much.”

“I’ll pay you the whole forty,” I said and she hiccuped her rum back into her mug.

“I didn’t know they made so much,” she finally said.

“First time selling yourself?” I asked her and she nodded glumly.

“I come from a good home in Greece,” she said, and leaned up against the desk where she looked at the floor. “Hercules, my former husband, married me and took me away from all that. Brought me here. He’s paid for everything for me, and I’ve never had to do this. That’s why I was so upset at walking into the tavern to sell myself to some drunken sailor, and why I’m drinking now.”

“Building up the courage to climb into the bed?” I asked and she gave a hiccup that she drowned in rum.

“I’m a big girl who ties her own sandals and everything,” she said, trying for the sauce she showed earlier but it fell flat to me. She looked at me before sighing again. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t use to make my own way in this world. But I never had to beg for it either.”

“True,” I said, moving forward to take the mug from her hand. “But there’s no bravado in rum. It might dull the pain tonight, but tomorrow is the day you’ll wake up and have to deal with yourself and what happens tonight.”

“And what happens tonight?” she asked, looking into my eyes.

“Only what you want to happen,” I said, and she gave another hiccup and sniffled as if her nose was running.

“Promise me one thing?” she asked, her voice wavering a bit. “Promise me you’ll be gentle?”

“Sure,” I told her, looking into her hazel eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, she slipped the straps of the dress off her shoulders and let the purple garment fall to the desk, revealing her pale breasts as it pooled around her hips. I looked down at her pale mounds, seeing that they were a small ‘C’ cup with bright pink nipples. I stretched a hand out, letting one of my rough fingers caress her smooth skin and her breath caught again.

“No one’s ever touched me but Hercules,” she said, her voice shaking as she kept breathing, then chuckled. “No one’s even seen me bare but him, either.”

“That’s about to change,” I said, cupping a hand around her back and pulling her to her feet. Once she was standing, and off the desk, her purple dress fell to the floor to reveal her naked and bony body and the brown hair that marked her bikini area. She stepped forward, leaving her dress behind and followed me to the bed, where she turned and gave me a kiss.

“Take me, I’m yours,” she breathed as she undid my trousers to reveal my hardening cock.

I hadn’t much of a chance to see how big it was, but before my coming here it was nice enough to pleasure a woman. Under Megara’s soft and careful hands, I watched as it swelled and grew, finally topping out at about eleven inches long with a hefty shaft. Her eyes grew wide at seeing it, but she dropped down in front of me and began sucking it into her mouth, the silky smooth walls of her mouth.

I groaned at the pleasure I felt, feeling her suck me off as I stood there. With nothing left to do, and needing to do it anyway, I peeled off my shirt, throwing it over my chest. Megara continued to suck on my stick, but she couldn’t take the whole thing into her mouth without gagging.

Eventually though, the pleasure had me shooting my piece off in her mouth with an anguished grunt, and she gagged as she caught a full load in the back of her mouth. With nowhere for it to go, and since it was choking her, she swallowed the first shot and I kept unloading more. She kept swallowing, but I could feel some pool around the shaft as it overwhelmed her until she finally managed to fall back against the bed. My stiff rod gave one last shot of semen that landed on her breasts, where it oozed down her chest.

She panted against the bed as my final shot continued to slide down her chest, and she smiled at me. “Warn a girl next time?”

“Sure,” I said, smirking at her as she used a hand to smear my semen into her skin.

Reaching down, I lifted her up and set her back on the bed where she lay back and spread her legs. Kicking off my shoes and forcing my pants off my legs, I climbed on top of her, spreading her legs further apart with my hands and licking her labia. She gave a squeal as my tongue parted her womanhood, and I used my thumbs to open her up to my tongue as I continued to lick deep into her.

Megara moaned and squirmed under my assault, arching her back and clawing the sheets in an attempt to alleviate the overwhelming pleasure she felt. I kept it going, eventually reaching up to her chest and rub at her breast. Megara kept moaning, wrapping her legs around my head and pinning my lapping tongue.

When she got close, I stopped my tongue and forced her legs apart. Climbing up her body as she panted from the nearness to her orgasm, I smiled devilishly at her before pressing my hard rod against her slick womanhood. She reached down a hand between us, guiding me into her hole, which once I had the tip in, started to press deep into her.

She gave a soft scream as I bore deep into her, my deep drilling of her tight shaft finding the bottom of her hole. I backed off a little, then gave another deep shove which made her cry out again. I settled onto the top of her, then started to drill in her hole. The lack of an orgasm from my tonguing had her slick insides craving my meat, and I drilled her hard and fast. Soon, she was writing under me, arching her back and clawing my covers as she moaned to the heavens for release.

I kept drilling, her hole growing tighter around my rod. She panted hard, and then with a shriek, I felt her body tighten around me as she finally climaxed. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me deep into her, her arms snapping around my neck and her nails dug into my back. Locked into her tight embrace, I couldn’t move so I rested while I prepared for our next round.

It was only due to our intimate embrace that I could feel her sob as she muttered, “Synchóresé me,” and left me to wonder what she meant. She kept me locked in our embrace for several long minutes, until she finally relaxed and sank into the mattress under me. When she looked up at me, I could see the tears in her eyes as she smiled wanly up at me.

“It’s all right,” she said, as she caught the concern in my eyes about if I was too rough on her. “The sea of raging hormones has ebbed, and I think I might have ruined the cover.”

“Forget about the cover,” I said, gaining a chuckle from her. “You look sad about something?”

She looked away for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with what I was asking. “It’s...” she started to say, then stopped, before turning her head to look me in the eye. “You’re the second man I’ve made love to,” she finally said. “I guess I’m still getting used to the idea of selling myself to survive.”

“We can stop here if you want,” I said and I saw her grimace.

“And what about the rest of the night?” she asked, but her voice sounded unsure.

“It does no good to keep going on if you’re scared,” I told her.

“Not scared,” she corrected me, even though I was still inside her.

“I can feel you tremble,” I told her. “And I don’t mean with my arms.”

“I think that might be the ecstasy you made me feel,” she said with a smile.

“Oh,” I said, looking down at her sweat covered chest. “Ready to go again?”

“There’s an encore?” she asked aghast.

“Oh yeah.”


	3. My First Voyage

14 December, 1659 = Sunday

  
  


I awoke the next morning with Meg still in my arms. A look out the window showed just enough light to tell me the sun was rising, but with the naked form of a beautiful woman tucked in tight in front of me, I had to admit I didn’t care. Meg seemed to sense my waking up as she stretched her body out against mine before relaxing again, but didn’t make any move to leave my embrace.

“You know your crew will be returning soon, if they haven’t already,” Meg told me.

“So we’re not doing it once more before I hit the seas?” I commented to make her laugh.

“Oh I’m sure the whole dock knows what we’ve been up to,” she commented as she finally turned over to press her bare chest to mine. “The things I’ve learned...”

“Didn’t know you could feel sensations that intense?” I asked and she wrapped a leg over mine to pull me in closer.

“I’m just glad for the thick wooden hull to keep the town from knowing,” she said with a smile, then grimaced. “Herc never made me feel like that.”

“So goes what you do after today,” I said, watching her close her eyes and her smallish body heave a big sigh.

“A girls gotta eat,” she finally said as she turned back over. She made to slide out of the bed, but I snaked an arm and pulled her back in close.

“I can take care of that,” I told her. “I know I’m new in port, but if you’re willing, I’ll take care of you. Just like I have tonight.”

“With gold or the feelings?” she finally asked after several long moments.

“Both,” I told her. “We don’t have to rush to the altar, and you can always leave if you find someone else you want to be with, but if you want to stay with me, it’ll just be me. We can always see where this goes.”

“I know where it goes,” she told me. “Eventually you’ll get me pregnant, and then you’ll want to marry me so it won’t be a bastard and give you an heir, and where will I be?”

“Wherever you want,” I told her. “Whatever you want. I’ll respect your decision.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she finally said after a long pause. When she slid out of bed this time, I didn’t try and stop her, and she went to the window to look out over the sea. “Stay with you, or be alone.”

“At least with me you know where you stand in the world,” I told her as I admired her beautiful body. “But as you said, it’s only the first night. It’s your choice whether it’s your first night with me or your new career.”

“Career,” she said softly. It was only from my angle on the bed that I could see the single tear glisten on her cheek in the morning sun. I knew she had to be weighing her options as the cool morning breeze caressed her bare skin, and no decision was more weighty to a woman than whether or not to whore herself out to survive in the world. Even in 2020, that decision weighed on many.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from the northwest of here?” she asked.

“Was that where Hercules went down?” I asked and she nodded.

“Hook has his base in a small pirate town on an island west of here,” she told me in a soft voice I didn’t think she was capable of with her normal throaty way of talking. “I hear it’s called Neverland, because you never want to land on its shore. Any ship that wanders close, be they merchant or privateer, falls prey to his brig of war, the Jolly Roger.”

“Well, I guarantee you I’m not fighting a brig of war,” I told her. “And I’ll steer clear of any place that means my death.”

Meg bowed her head, then turned back to me. “It isn’t even a choice. Either way I get pregnant, more mouths to feed. If I don’t stay with you, any children I have will have no future, especially for the girls who will just have to do what I’d be doing, selling themselves.”

“Made a decision have you?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said as she came back to the bed and climbed back in with me. “Fill me up one more time before you sail off to pillage and plunder?”

“Sure,” I said as I pulled her in close. “I take it you decided to stay?”

“Yes,” she said, sliding over the top of me to allow me to see her bare body under the privacy of our covers as she worked my hardening cock inside her. “From here on, I’m only yours.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her and plunged myself into her depths. Meg let out a howl, arching her back as her insides were suddenly forced to expand to allow for my massive size, arching her back as she did so to grab the overhead rafters.

Placing my hands on her hips, I guided her as she began to undulate herself on top of me, slowly at first then faster as she got in the rhythm. Her moans of pleasure increased with the speed she moved at, until she was almost screaming in pleasure. She began to tighten around my cock as she enjoyed herself, telling me she was ready to cum, so I began to thrust in rhythm to her movements.

The effect was immediate, and she climaxed with a loud shriek as if she’d been stabbed. Holding the pose for the moment, I climaxed myself and shot another load of seed into her body before Meg eventually relaxed as she pooled herself on my chest, her own still heaving from the exertion.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked once she caught her breath.

“Oh yes,” I said as I lay there. “But, I do believe my crew will be returning soon and I’ll need to lead them to sea.”

“At least you have something to remember me by,” she said playfully as she rolled off of me.

“Oh, I’ll be counting the days until I return,” I told her as she slid out of bed. Knowing that our time for play was over, I slid out myself to get dressed myself. We dressed in silence, and we I embraced her as she headed for the door.

“Before you go,” I said, then led her over to my trunk. I pulled out my cache of gold, counting out about eighty pieces. “Take this. It should hold you until I return.”

“Thank you,” she said with a wan smile. She scooped the gold into a pouch, then tied it off. “I’ll be waiting for you to return.”

“I’ll try not to be long,” I told her before I gave her a kiss. “Just a quick jaunt to the nearest port to take a ship or two and I’ll be back.”

“Be careful,” she told me with an earnest voice. “Privateers and military vessels might come after you as well.”

“They better have a fast ship,” I told her. “I just want to take a few merchantmen. Anything bigger or better armed I’ll let pass.”

“Thank you,” she said as she kissed me. She held the kiss, then backed away once it was over.

Meg opened the door and stepped out onto the ship, which was populated with a dreary eyed crew. She walked quickly to the gangplank and descended to the dock as she walked back towards the buildings. I followed as far as the railing, watching her hips that had danced for me many times over the course of the night fade into the morning crowd until I lost track of her completely.

“Very loud, isn’t she?” Stiles said from beside me.

“I wasn’t going to leave the ship uncrewed all night,” I told him. “Finding a lady to spend the night with was a lucky break for me.”

“Aye,” was all he said before he turned and walked away.

A pudgy man carrying a bundle soon caught my eye as was the package he was carrying. What caught my eye was he seemed to be searching for something, then seemed to smile as he caught sight of me. It took me a moment to place him as the shopkeeper I’d purchased my Dutch flag from and had arranged to have it delivered this morning before I set sail.

“Morning, captain,” he said as he came up the gangplank. “I have your flag.”

“Well timed,” I said as he handed me the flag. “I wanted to get underway early this morning.”

“I wholly understand,” he said as he turned. “I’ve got a few more deliveries to make, so I must bid you adieu.”

“Good day,” I bid as he hurried away. I turned to the mast, my eyes going up to flag. Stiles was nearby talking with a couple of sailors. My look towards him caught Stiles’ eye, and I held up the flag as I walked over. His eyes went up to the flag, and I nodded when he looked back to me.

“New flag?” he asked in confirmation.

“Just got it,” I told him. “As Dutch privateers, we sail under a Dutch flag for the Dutch.”

“And should we ever get caught,” he said as he took the flag from me, “we can only be jailed instead of hung. I’ll get this up the mast, right away.”

“Thank you, Stiles,” I said as I looked around the ship. A bell began to sound, and I cocked my head as I counted. Three double rings and a single told me it was seven bells, or seven thirty given the early hour, so I had some time to kill.

Walking up to the poop deck, I pulled out the chart and studied it for the closest port, finding the closest was Saint Kitts, which was controlled by the British. The nearest Spanish port, which according to memory would be where the gold was was San Juan, but that was close to where Hook was based. If I kept my promise, which I really had no reason to break, the next nearest Spanish ports would be in South America, and ranged from Trinidad to Caracas.

Shaking my head, I couldn’t see going so far to attack ships when I had several British and French targets much closer to a home port, which I considered Saint Eustatius to be, and decided to keep my raids between Saint Kitts and French owned Guadeloupe, giving me five ports total to raid over two countries.

Hearing the bell again after studying my map, I set it back in the desk and looked out over my crew, seeing a good knot of men assembled. I knew we still had a stock of supplies from our crossing, so I wasn’t worried about a food shortage and decided it was time to ready the ship.

“Eight bells!” Stiles yelled to the crew as if sensing my decision. “Fall in for count!”

The crew roused from their inactivity and many more came up out of the hold. They milled about on the deck as Stiles came up to join me, pulling a sheet of paper from his vest.

“Crew is assembled, sir,” he said as he stood in front of me. “I took the liberty last night of making out the Articles, if you wish to review them.”

I mentally slapped myself for not thinking of writing the Articles, myself. The Articles were an old term meaning a contract that a ship sailed under, most often talked of as the Code. They laid down both the rules of the ship, powers and limits of its captain, and also established a sort of retirement if a man was made unable to sail because he lost the ability in the service of the ship.

Taking the Articles as written by Mister Stiles, I found it written as followed and read it off to the crew.

“To each man that signs herein, we do conclude ourselves to act as follows;

“One, that each man may have one vote, on any affair of the moment, and has equal right to fresh provisions or strong liquors at any time seized, and may use them at pleasure unless a scarcity makes it necessary, for the good of all aboard, to vote a retrenchment.

“Two, all goods seized or captured, including ships taken, shall be divided fairly by being first sold, their value added to the ship’s ledger and the gold stored in the ship’s hold, until such time as a vote to divide the loot is made.

“Three, any person, to the value of a piece of eight, caught stealing or keeping secret any prize, shall be marooned in such a place that is not uninhabited, but to cause hardship with only a flask of powder, small arm, and single shot.

“Four, that all lights and candles are to be put out at at eight o’clock, and if any crew wish to drink or game, they are to do it on the open deck.

“Five, all men are to keep their piece, pistols and sword clean and fit for service with any man found lacking to be deprived of his share and either marooned or left behind after a call to arms is made.

“Six, any man deserting the ship or their quarters in battle is to be punished with death.

“Seven, no striking another on board, but every man’s quarrels to be ended on shore, at sword or pistol. The quarter-master of the ship, when the parties will not come to any reconcilliation, shall accompany the parties to shore with assistance he thinks proper, and shall turn the disputants back-to-back, walk ten paces, then at the word of the quarter-master, shall turn and fire immediately. If both miss, they come to their cutlasses, and then he who draws first blood shall be named winner.

“Eight, the elected Captain and Quartermaster to receive two shares of a prize, any officer elected shall receive one share and a half, all common sailors receiving one full share.

“Nine, any man losing losing limb, or otherwise becoming cripple in the performance of their duty, shall receive three full shares of the loot acquired to that point, then dismissed at the next friendly port.

“Ten, every man shall obey civil command, and he who does not, shall receive forty lashes.”

I looked at the men still arrayed, and then nodded my head in acceptance. Going into the desk where the ship’s ledger was kept, I pulled out the bottle of ink and the feather pen and set them on top, then unstoppered the bottle. Dipping in the pen, I signed off with my name on the captain’s line, then handed the pen to Stiles who signed off as the quartermaster.

“All hands wishing to set sail, shall sign the Articles,” Stiles yelled. “Then we shall hold a vote for direction of sail, then cast off.”

Stiles and I stepped back to allow the parade of men up the stairs and access to the Articles, each man signing off before going back down the stairs. I kept a count of the men, finding thirty-five souls were brave enough to sail as privateers. When it was done, I stoppered the Articles in the desk and removed the ship’s ledger.

“Where to, lads?” I asked them, and they only shrugged. “To our west is the Spanish port of San Juan. According to local word, though, a rather nasty pirate named Hook sails those waters and takes any ships he sees a-prize and kills their crew.”

That had the desired effect of many of the many shaking their heads, so I could rest easier at knowing that I wouldn’t be sailing for my own death. “To our south is Saint Kitts, an English port, and further south is Nevis, also British owned, and past that is Martinique, French owned.”

The men began to talk amongst each other, then the chants of Saint Kitts began.

“Any man wanting to vote for some place other than Saint Kitts, speak now,” I asked but no man raised his voice. “Saint Kitts it is! Cast us off, lads, and let’s get this ship sailing!”

That got the crew to cheer, then each man began to move as they headed for their preferred station. Stiles began shouting more specific orders such as how to cast off and set the sails, and I manned the helm, turning it hard over so we could leave as the wind began to push the carefully selected sails.

Once we were successfully turned, Stiles gave the orders to go to full sail, and I turned us south to open waters, turning a bit so the wind caught the sails and propelled us to full speed. As Saint Eustatius fell behind our rudder, Stiles returned to the poop deck with a grin on his face.

“Making about twelve knots, sir,” he informed me.

“Good,” I said as he took control of the helm. That allowed me to watch the sailors as they sailed, something I don’t think I could ever tire of doing.

Sighing, I could only wonder what life would bring in Saint Kitts.


	4. Taking My First Ship

15 December, 1659 = Monday

  
  


  
  


It was nearing midday of the day after leaving port for the first time as privateers that we saw our first ship. I rushed to the prow with my spyglass and looked over the ship as best I could, but the white flag and red cross was hard to miss as it flapped above the three masted vessel.

“It’s English!” I yelled to make the crew cheer. “Stiles! Steer us starboard! We’ll dodge her aim and pelt her backside!”

“Aye sir!” he yelled happily, turning the ship so we’d steer clear of her guns. A few puffs of white soon followed, but they landed way wide of our ship and seemed to be more warning than threat.

“They’ll need to shoot better than that to stave us off,” one of the crew near me said.

“They can lay a broadside against us and not stave me off,” I told him in all seriousness. “Merchantman are easy to take, especially with a fast, maneuverable vessel.”

“Aye sir,” he said as he went back to his duties.

I continued to watch the vessel as we slipped to his aft, the other ship seeming to re-orient itself as it shifted its heading. It took me a second to realize what he was trying to do, but I wasn’t sure if it would work or not. He was trying to put his ship before the wind to outrun me, and with his square rigged sailing plan, could make better use of the wind than I could with my sloop’s lanteen and gaff rigging.

The only catch was, I was light and he was likely running heavy which meant that he wouldn’t be as fast even with the wind. As our ships neared each other, close enough to start making out people with the naked eye, my sloop began to fall into the merchantman’s wake.

“Run out the starboard cannon!” I yelled to the crew. “Load chainshot and wait for my signal!”

The crew readied the cannons, loading the chainshot as ordered after a charge of powder was rammed in the muzzle. As the guns slid out to firing positions, and the fuse inserted, I looked at the firing pattern. We were a little long on the range, but if it worked, we’d wreck his sails with one shot.

Drawing my cutlass, I raised it high overhead. “Aim your cannons high!” I yelled, and the muzzles were raised as high as they could go.

We were in as good as a firing position as I could figure, and my heart was racing as I was about to order my first firing of the cannons on another ship. A real, sail going vessel.

“FIRE!” I yelled as I dropped my cutlass as a visible cue, and the fuses were lit. In seconds, the ship’s four starboard cannon fired in a varying boom boom boom and the chainshot went flying. Arcing high, and watching the opposing captain’s face descend into terror, my chainshot spread out so much that I knew only one would hit.

The one that did, tore through the mainsail of the mizzenmast. My crew cheered and hurrahed at the successful hit, but we were beginning to fall behind.

“Hard to starboard!” I yelled back to Stiles. “Run that ship to ground!”

“Aye!” he yelled in acknowledgement. “Tighten the sheets, lads! We’re going afore the wind!”

The adrenaline ran high as we turned towards the merchantman. The opposing captain continued to yell orders to his crew, and they tried to find the speed in their ship to continue the run. Hands dropped the damaged sail, and a fresh one was raised as we continued to gain ground. A sharpshooter from the opposing ship started to fire towards us, and several muskets were brought forward to return fire.

My own crew returned fire, the freshening wind clearing the haze afterwards. If nothing else, it made firing accurately more difficult as we neared our target. One of the shots finally made the sniper jerk in the rigging, and the offending weapon fell to the deck. Close enough now to clearly see the captain’s fear filled face, my men laid their rifles aside and readied their cutlasses.

“Prepare to board!” I yelled once we were within a hundred feet of the aft of the ship. I could see the ship’s name written below the captain’s cabin marking the ship as the _Onward_. My crew rushed the railing, some of the men with hooks attached to strong, thick rope.

As the prow of my ship came abreast of the merchantman, the crew rushed aboard to charge the enemy crew. I was among the crowd of those who charged, but I turned aft to where I had last seen the captain. I found him on the poop deck, so I charged up the stairs and squared off with him.

It was my first real sword fight, and not being used to a cutlass, was a bit slower than the captain on the initial parry and thrust, and he dutifully turned me around in an attempt to force me off the rear of the ship. Still, I managed to keep him at sword’s length, ducking a high chop as I slashed low. My cutlass scored blood, and he fell back a half step to recover.

High on adrenaline, I began to aggressively hack at the opposing captain’s cutlass, further forcing him back until a baseball like swing knocked his sword over the railing. Disarmed, and at the point of my sword, he raised his hands and yielded.

“I yield!” he cried as I put the sword under his chin. Knowing that I wouldn’t be so easily forgiven for killing an unarmed prisoner, I lowered my sword at his cry, and looked around. The British sailors were surrendering, and my crew cheered.

“Round ‘em up!” I yelled to my men.

“Going to turn us adrift in a boat to row for home?” the other captain asked.

“Nifty idea,” I told him, liking that I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping prisoners that way and fear a prison break.

“It’s not the first time I lost my ship to pirates,” he grumbled. “Probably my last though. I’m not as young as I used to be.

“Then it’s time to go home and plant a garden,” I told him as we walked to a longboat.

“Twenty-two still alive, sir,” one of my crew told me.

“Board them aboard the longboat,” I told him. “Give them enough water and provisions for two days. They can row their way back to Saint Kitts.”

“Aye, sir,” he said. The surrendered crew didn’t look happy to be forced at sword point into the small craft, but went all the same. Several kegs were put in with them, and then the boat was lowered into the water. The captain gave the order to row, and they began to pull away.

“What do you want to do to with this ship, sir,” Stiles asked me. A look at my sloop told me that the sails had been stowed somewhat, so that the ships sailed together with each other and not leaving one behind.

“We take it as a prize,” I told him. “Assign a bare crew to this ship, and you can command it yourself if you like.”

“I’ll keep my posting, if that’s alright with you, sir,” he told me. “We might want to add a few officers to our crew.”

“Call a vote,” I said, knowing that this was likely one thing they’d demand of me. “We need a commander for this ship. The lucky man will, as the articles state, get an increased share of the plunder.”

“Aye sir,” he said, nodding before turning to the crew. “Alright you lot! Form up and ready yourselves for a vote. We need an officer to command this vessel until we head back to port. Any takers?”

I tuned out the vote, less interested in the process than the outcome and headed down into the hold to examine the cargo. Snagging a lantern as I descended into the orlop deck, I found the ship’s cargo was mostly basic goods; tea, household items and the like. Nothing highly expensive but necessary common items.

There were also crates of food, which upon examining one turned out to be dried and salted meats from varying sources, potatoes, bags of flour, oats, barley, rye and corn, or it looked like corn anyway. Had to figure each crate weighed at least a thousand pounds, so no easy feat getting them down here. It also made the carrying capacity of this ship impressive, far larger than my semi understandably, but still impressive for the time.

Going back to the main deck, Stiles approached me with a sailor in tow. I had to figure he was the man that won the vote, so he’d be in charge of this new vessel though still under my command as we sailed. I didn’t recognize him, though I really didn’t fraternize with my crew.

“This be McGregor, captain,” Stiles said as he introduced the sailor.

“Very well done on the vote, McGregor,” I told him as I shook his hand. “A n extra half share of the loot we take is now yours.”

“Thank you, sir,” he told me as he doffed his hat in a show of respect.

“Standing orders are to keep this ship safe and her cargo secure,” I told him. He nodded his understanding, and I looked around at the assembled crew. “Pick out ten men for your crew and get ready to cast off, McGregor. We gather no loot waiting on our laurels.”

“Aye sir!” he called out and turned to the crew. “Who’s willing to sail!”

A round of cheers sounded from the crew, and I swung back over to the Badger. Many of the crew joined me, and giving the order, we sailed east for Nevis, an eye on the horizon for signs of sail.


	5. Wanted Man

16 December, 1659 = Tuesday

  
  


The next day, as we sailed on a southwest course past Nevis, we caught sight of another ship. It was another merchantman headed towards the port, and we gave chase. With the port so close, it seemed as if the ship would evade us as it came under the protection of the port’s guns before we would reach her.

“Two points to port,” I called to my current helmsman as the wind seemed to change direction. It would take us off a direct chase and bring the foremost cannons to bear. “Stiles! Load chainshot in the starboard cannon!”

“Aye!” he said, the crew rushing to load the chainshot per my command. Once the cannons were ready, the freshening breeze seemed to help speed us along, making the other captain nervous as our cannons began to line up.

“Aim high,” I told the gunners and they adjusted the elevation.

“The masts?” Stiles said, guessing my target.

“Can’t run from me if they can’t run,” I told him darkly. With the first cannon lined up, we began to fire the chainshot flying fast for its target. It landed in the sheets just as the second cannon fired, the first shredding the canvas sheets. The second shot was a little wide, ripping the rope rigging and making the mainsail flap. The other ship lost even more speed, as the third cannon fired, the shot wrapping around the mast to do little damage.

“Close and board!” I called and the crew cheered. The other captain was understandably perturbed at the loss of his sail and subsequently slower ship, and began to shout orders to his crew. I mounted the railing, drawing my sword to lead the charge when Stiles mounted the rail next to me.

“We need to make this fast,” he said quietly.

“Stay close,” I told him. “Turn the ship away from the port lest we sail straight into a jail cell.”

“Aye,” he said as the port loomed close. The first pop of the defense cannons sounded, the cannonballs landing just short of my ship as we began to pull alongside the fleeing merchantman. “Not a moment too soon.”

Raising a sword, the moment our ship crawled up beside the merchantman, I led the charge aboard the enemy ship. Thankfully the poop deck was an officer’s only affair with minimal crew manning this area. I had led the charge here to limit the likelihood of them sinking the Badger on me, and also to limit their ability to use grapeshot on the crew and cut down the boarding party before we even left our own ship.

“To arms!” their captain yelled, rallying his men as my own swarmed over the side. I charged the enemy captain, treating my cutlass like a razor edged bat as I slashed and hacked, knowing the enemy captain would be forced to give ground under my assault lest he get cut by my attack.

His downfall came when I pushed him back to the stairs, my constant attack making him forget where he was. His foot slipped on the top step and he went over, dropping his sword along the way. I rushed down the stairs and checked him, but the longsword he had been carrying had slashed his inner thigh and blood was everywhere. I knew he was already dead, so I turned my concentration to subduing the rest of the crew, but they were lowering a longboat already as they held off my crew. Stiles seemed content to let them run, and I didn’t see the harm in it. Besides, this close to shore they could be on land within the hour.

“Sail!” someone yelled, and I turned. There was indeed another ship leaving Nevis, slightly smaller than the Badger, but it was the amount of redcoats aboard that stilled my blood.

“Hard-a-larboard!” I yelled to Stiles who still had the helm. He turned the wheel hard, the ship leaning as we turned. I moved closer to Stiles, glad the men still aboard the Badger turned her to follow, then ran down into the hold. The powder magazine was right in front of me, given evidence by the lit lantern which I took back up to the main deck.

“Abandon this ship!” I called to the crew. “Back to the Badger!”

“Sir?” one of the crew said.

“We don’t have the men to keep it and face the King’s men!” I yelled at him. “Back to the Badger!”

His face paled as it set in, and he quickly joined the men swinging back over to our main ship. I ran to the poop deck, grabbing the ledger and tucking it in my belt. Lantern in hand, I tossed it down into the hold and swung for it, the deck of the Badger tilting as Stiles seemed to catch what I had done and put distance between the two ships.

I no more landed on the tilted deck than the other ship gave a mighty belch as the gunpowder finally blew. When I looked back, the ship had broken apart and was beginning to flood, its goods starting to spread out in the tide.

“Make sail!” I called, heading for the poop deck. The other ship was approaching fast, but I realized that in getting clear of the merchantman we had given up the weather gauge.

“We be sitting ducks,” Stiles groused as the other ship began to run us down. “They already be gaining on us.”

Worry filled me as I dug in my desk for the telescope, soon finding and extending the brass tube for best results. The other ship, which now that I could see it up close was more like a clipper, was well armed with twelve cannon and what had to be fifty men crowding the rails. With nervous fingers, I handed the spy glass off to Stiles, who whistled at what he saw.

“A mail runner,” he breathed as he collapsed the spy glass. “I’d seen ‘em before, but not like this.”

“Can we outrun it?” I asked him, but he gave a solemn shake of his head.

“Tis one of the fastest ships on the sea,” he told me. “And they be sitting for a boarding action. They get close enough, they’ll swarm us like we did that merchantman.”

I took the spy glass and looked again, but it was then I noticed that all I was seeing were redcoats.

“Load grapeshot,” I told him as I scanned the rigging, but there was only a handful of sailors visible. “I think they gambled on taking us a prize. There’s only a handful of sailors aboard, and I be willing to bet you a honest piece of eight that those redcoats lack any real gunnery talent.”

“Run in close and take us,” he mused, then dawn seemed to light on his thoughts as he grinned devilishly. “You intend to cut them to ribbons and take their ship?”

“Oh yes,” I said, grinning back.

“Load grapeshot!” Stiles called, rushing to round up the men we had left and ready us for battle. My men seemed to gather some courage as they worked, loading the cannons as the mail runner gained, but the cannons on the mail runner stayed untouched.

“Cannons loaded, sir!” Stiles called. “Both sides ready to report!”

“Man the port,” I called back to him. “Ready a full broadside.”

“Aye sir!” he called and rallied the men to the port side cannons.

“Are ye sure, sir?” the helmsman said as he looked over his shoulder.

“Hard to port,” I told him. “And then hold it even if fights you!”

“Aye!” he said, turning the wheel. The ship leaned to starboard as we turned to port, the pitch increasing as the wind filled the sheets and nearly laid us over. I had to hold on to the railing to see the other ship as it neared, smiling as my ship was laid in irons as we sailed back into the wind and our ship leveled out.

The result was a skeet shoot as the other ship suddenly had no time to ready its cannon as it rushed past, and my gunners began taking potshots with their deadly artillery. Redcoats, eager to engage my ship and waiting to get close enough, took the brunt of the damage as if I had a firing line of muskets hundreds strong and were firing en masse at them, which was a fair comparison to the carnage dealt them. Men either fell into the water wounded or whole, now removed from this fight until someone came for them.

It wouldn’t be me, and I was bound to keep it from being them.

“Keep us turning,” I told our helmsman as our sheets again began to catch the wind. “Put us in pursuit of that ship.”

“Aye sir!” he called, now realizing what I had done. J-turns hadn’t been invented yet, and while technically impossible to pull off in a sailing vessel, I had come close. I was now behind them after getting in some fatal licks, their own captain now trying to coax more speed out of his ship as we began to give chase.

“Stiles, rig two cannons for chasers!” I called to him. “Load with chainshot and fire at will!”

“Aye!” he called happily as he and the men began to rearrange the cannons. With over a dozen men, the cannons were easily relocated and soon we had a volley of chainshot flying into the rigging of the mail runner. On the third volley, the captain looked glum and shook his head.

“They’re striking the colors!” my lookout yelled. I looked with the spyglass but it was as he said, they were lowering the colors, meaning they had given up. They slowed, and my own men were ready to swarm the ship, but the longboats were already lowered and the men were waiting by the rails to be dismissed, many wounded.

“You are a savage fiend,” the captain groused as I stepped aboard his vessel. There was little to do since they had already given up, but my crew held them at sword point along the railing anyway.

“Search them for gold,” I told my crew. “Leave them their other valuables, but take their money.”

“Fiend,” the captain groused. “It isn’t the first time the Sea Lion has been taken a prize. I wonder what her name will become, now?”

“She’s been renamed?” I asked him.

“She was originally called the Beaumont,” he told me. “An English privateer took her from the French and renamed her when he took the ship for his flagship. My understanding is that when a privateer takes a ship a prize for a flagship, he renames it to ward off any bad luck the ship had under its previous name.”

“Superstitous nonsense,” I muttered. The captain smirked at that, but a look at my crew told me the practice was likely deeply rooted in naval legends of the era and that I’d likely need to play along. Soon, a crew carrying a bag brought it over and handed it to me.

“I counted the equivilent of three hundred pieces, sir,” he told me as I took the bag.

“Thank you, sailor,” I told the man, who went back to guard the prisoners.

“Might I at least know your name, captain?” the defeated captain asked me.

“Owen Hunt,” I told him, wondering why he would want my name.

“Very well, Captain Hunt,” he said as he looked to what remained of his men. “Permission to disembark?”

“You may,” I said, watching as his crew climbed over the railing and down into the waiting longboats. “Fair winds, captain.”

“And may we meet again,” he said as he swung over the railing to join his men. That’s when it hit me why he wanted my name. I was now going to be a wanted man in English ports. Well, I wasn’t planning on going there anyway.

“Secure the ship!” I called as the longboats pulled away. “Stiles! Set course due west! We sail for Saint Eustatius!”

“Aye!” he called, getting our ships under way.

I turned to look over the Sea Lion, noting her cannon. She was fully equipped with a dozen cannon, four more than I had on the Badger. Remembering what Stiles had said about mail runners like this being among the fastest ships on the sea, it was tempting to make it my flagship as it already had a good amount of cannon.

I went down the nearby hatch, finding that the berthing, orlop and cargo were all on one deck. I knew it meant that the ship couldn’t hold much in the way of cargo, nor sailors, but as a privateer who didn’t stray far from home port that wasn’t much of a problem. In fact, her speed going into battle was a definite plus.

But, was she better suited for battle? Smaller ships tended to be thinner hulled, meaning one well placed cannonball could sink it where maybe my sloop would be be able to stay afloat. My sloop could also field more men and cargo, and, if I were so inclined, more cannons. Cannons would be the name of the game if I had to fight off larger ships, or as in the film Master and Commander, take a larger ship. Aubrey’s tiny frigate was almost worthless against what amounted to a fourth rate ship-of-the-line, the Archeron being based on the USS Constitution in the movie and the cannonballs bouncing off the hull in the same way. It had come down to the ship’s two weaknesses, it’s masts and being subject to boarding, and here again I knew the mail runner was in a similar situation. I might get close enough to board, but the ship was likely to be sunk in the action.

Where was the good in that?

Sighing, I knew that I needed to trade up, not down, when it came to ships and the mail runner was a step down from a sloop. Still, the ship was of a style some captain might want so it had some value, which was good. Now I was just wondering how much ships were worth and if they were worth taking as a prize or if my best course of action was to take the ship, grab the ship’s log, shake the crew down for valuables then sink the ship.

Decisions that needed answers, when I was only learning to ask the question.

Moving back up to the deck, I saw that the merchantman we had taken earlier had started to follow us and that we were slackening sails to allow it to follow more easily. Stiles aboard the Badger seemed to be in charge of things and near the end of the day, as the sun set, I ordered the sails lowered and anchors dropped.

“Orders, sir?” Stiles said once all three ships were tied off together, the Badger in the middle.

“Move cannon from the merchantman to the Badger,” I told him. “I want the Badger fully outfitted with as many cannon as she can hold.”

“Aye, sir,” he said, giving orders to the crew.

“In the morning, we set sail west to Saint Kitts, then round the island to turn north to Saint Eustatius,” I informed him and the crew. “We’ll rid ourselves of these extra ships and take a few days off. Then we’ll return and do it again!”

The crew cheered, then set to transferring the cannons. It took hours to move the four cannons to the Badger and rig them for use, but when they were done the new cannons were arranged on the main deck. The crew, tired from moving the heavy cannons, went to bed with only a few lookouts per ship to keep an eye out for trouble.

“You know we never got around to electing a commander for the new ship?” Stiles reminded me as the crew slunk off below decks to sleep.

I sighed deeply, thinking the crew would be upset at being rousted from bed to hold a vote now. Stiles chuckled at that, looking at the new vessel with a wide grin.

“I’ll take command of it,” he told me.

“Favor it that much?” I asked him.

“I just don’t want to entitle too many of the crew to extra shares,” he finally admitted. “Besides, we’re sailing for home on the morrow. No need for that now.”

“Sounds good to me,” I told him, feeling relieved I wouldn’t look like the fool.

“Then, I shall see you tomorrow,” he said as he went to get his personal effects from below decks.

I slunk back into my own cabin, taking my shoes off and laying back on my bed. As I often did at the end of the day or when excessively bored, I took my guitar and began playing, winding myself down until I was tired. Then, setting the guitar aside and my thoughts on Megara, I went to bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring.


	6. Home and Out Again

19 December, 1659 = Friday

  
  


It was nearing noon when we arrived back in Saint Eustatius a few days later. Thanks to good winds we made good time, though the merchantman was clearly the slowest of the three ships. As we docked the ships, the men in high spirits at the thought of being in good company tonight.

It wasn’t until the gangplank was lowered that I noticed Megara waiting on me, too caught up in giving orders to my crew since Stiles was on his own ship. However, once the men were given their orders and told to be back in the morning on the day after tomorrow at eight bells or risk getting left behind, did I walk down the gangplank and embrace the beautiful woman in a more appropriate but still purplish dress that spoke of her Grecian influences.

“Miss me?” she asked and I kissed her in reply.

“If it weren’t for the governor having already sent his coach for me, I’d take you back to my cabin and show you how much I’ve missed you,” I all but growled. Meg smiled as I kissed her again, melting into me as we shared the moment, but a look through the wisps of her long brown hair told me that Simmons was already approaching.

“Tonight,” she teased, smiling as I pulled back.

“Captain Hunt?” he said, stopping a few feet back as I cradled Megara as she gave a wry chuckle. “The governor would like to see you.”

“Go,” Megara said, giving me a slight push. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll try not to be too long,” I said as I followed Simmons to the coach and got inside. Megara waited without moving from the dock, smiling warmly as the coach took off for the mansion overlooking the harbor.

Once we arrived, Simmons and I dismounted the coach and went inside, soon finding Governor Fitzherbert and Rapunzel sitting in a drawing room. They were talking with a third man, large and well built and wearing an officer’s uniform. When I got close enough to hear what was being said, it sounded less like a situational brief and more like idle gossip.

“Governor,” Simmons said, getting their attention as we approached. The governor and the officer rose as one, and I shook their hands in turn before bowing respectfully to Rapunzel.

“Captain Hunt,” the governor said, gesturing for me to sit in a chair. “I see you’ve taken a few ships.”

“British,” I said simply. “I sacked two merchantmen, forced to sink one when the British of Nevis sent the Royal Navy after me during its capture. I managed to not only survive, but take their ship as well, scoring me the mail runner.”

“Sgu,” the officer said, taking his chair.

“Language, Maximus!” Rapunzel admonished the officer. The name turned a lightbulb on in my brain and I knew that this was Rapunzel’s eldest son, but a look at his face and at Eugene and I knew that there was no way the governor fathered this kid. Eugene was a thin, spare man, but Maximus was big and wide, radiating power and strength. I had no doubt Eugene couldn’t handle himself in a fight, but his strength was based on not being hit. Maximus was like me, big and strong enough to overpower his enemy with no trouble.

“Sorry, mom,” he said, shrinking under her stern gaze.

“Three ships?” Eugene asked me and I nodded. “You have the logbook for the sunk merchantman?”

“I do,” I told him, cursing myself for having left it at the Badger.

“Then I see no reason the king wouldn’t be pleased,” Governor Fitzherbert said. “And, by my right as governor of Saint Eustatius, I grant you the rank of captain in the Danish navy.”

“Thank you, governor,” I said, not using his name as I didn’t want to cause Rapunzel to have a fit when she couldn’t resolve her reality to ours.

“It comes with perks,” Eugene told me. “The notoriety of being known to take ships, meaning sailors will more readily sail with you, and the fact that I’ll be buy any ships you wish to part with. Cargos as well.”

“Good to know,” I told him, thinking of the merchantman and the mail runner, and we began to talk terms of trade on the ships. I got five hundred gold coins for the merchantman, and three hundred for the smaller mail runner, gold coins being an international form of currency of the period and worth more than the silver daalders I was already carrying to the tune of four times more per gold doubloon.

I left the mansion and headed back to the Badger, hearing a big commotion already in the tavern as I passed. I had to figure my men were already working on a drunk, and not wanting to intrude, passed it by as I continued on to the docks.

The Badger was as I left it, only one man on the deck as I boarded the ramp. I didn’t recognize the man whittling on a piece of wood, apparently a duck by its shape. He saluted me with his knife briefly before going back to his carving.

“No coin for drink or women?” I asked him and he shook his head.

“Spent it at our last port,” he told me with a wistful smile on his face. “Beautiful thing she was. The night was definitely one to remember.”

I fished some coins out of my pocket, and held them out to him. He put his duck in a pocket then took the coins, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

“My date is here already,” I told him, and he looked back to my dimly lit cabin as the sun began to set.

“The ship be yours, captain,” he said, edging past me to the gangplank. I let him go with a smile, and figuring I had the ship to myself, went straight for my cabin. The door wasn’t locked, not that I thought it had one, and went inside only to find myself shocked at the sight of Megara laying nude on my bed and oh what fun we had.

  
  


=o=0=o= 21 December, 1659 Sunday =o=0=o=

  
  


At eight bells precisely we cast off the second morning with a cheer, Megara giving me a cheerful wave as I gazed back from the poop deck of the Badger. We’d spent the entire time in port pretty much in each others arms, and though she gave no outward signs to the contrary, knew she still missed her former husband. I promised her again as we left to stay away from Captain Hook’s Neverland port lest I fall victim to the dread pirate himself.

My charted course again took me down to Saint Kitts and my men seemed eager to get there as they kept the Badger at full charge. It meant we would make Saint Kitts before noon if the wind held out, but our luck held even better; a pair of merchantmen on a southeast course likely heading for British Port.

“Load the port cannon with grapeshot!” I called after confirming their British flags. My men scrambled with glee as I brought the Badger in behind the slower of the two merchantmen. The captain panicked at seeing my Dutch flag bearing so close and tried to turn and run due south, but I cut him off. Nowhere to run, he surrendered without a fight.

“Bloody pirate,” he cursed as I dismissed his men from the boat.

“Privateer,” I corrected him as he joined his men in the long boat.

“You still deserve to hang,” he groused.

“And you deserve to be shot for not following the rules of war,” I bitched at him. “I’m a privateer and serve the Dutch in an official capacity during wartime with the king’s blessing. I’m as protected as any soldier in his employ by long tradition of the rules of war and the only reason I don’t shoot as worthless a person as you!”

“Off with ye!” Stiles shouted as he threw them the rope that held their small craft. The sailors I was discharging seemed to understand that it was time to row for their lives and did so with gusto lest I forget manners and blow them to bits.

“Stiles,” I said through almost gritted teeth as I looked at the almost disappearing flag of the other merchantman. “Tell McGregor he has this vessel. We need to get underway.”

“Aye sir,” he said as I turned and headed to the poop deck and retrieved the ship’s log. Stiles thankfully had the crew sorted by the time I swung back to the Badger and we soon began to chase the fleeing ship where my sloop easily proved to be faster once we caught the wind but this captain was tenacious and didn’t want to give up.

“Bring us alongside so we can fire our port cannons,” I told the helmsman. “We’ll lay a broadside against her and see if they still have the will to fight.”

“Aye, sir,” he growled as he steered us right the stern of the ship we were chasing. The other captain tried to coax as much speed out of his own heavily laden ship as he could but the Badger was lighter and a naturally faster ship and soon began to go board to board. The moment my first cannon lined up on the merchanman’s own it fired to blast the enemy cannoneers to smithereens and leave my own ship relatively unscathed.

I then led the charge on the enemy vessel, swinging over and drawing my sword as I was approached by the enemy captain. He drew his own sword and we went at it and it was then I realized I was no swordsman. The enemy captain scored twice on my left shoulder causing blood to seep from the wounds and really pissed me off, but what’s worse it scared me, and when scared I did what all humans do. I lashed out in blind rage.

With a high chop that pinned his sword momentarily, I then used my bulk to overpower the smaller man and push him back a step and knock him off center. When I released his sword, he tried to rebalance himself but a powerful slash across his arm knocked his sword to the deck. Backing up one final step, he raised his hands in surrender when he realized he was at my mercy.

“Strike the colors,” the captain finally called. “We surrender.”

“Round them up and relieve them of their coins,” I told my crew. “Basic provisions and a longboat.”

“Shall we call a count for a new officer?” Stiles asked me as my crew escorted the losers to the rowboats.

“No,” I said as I looked the ship over. “Once McGregor catches up we’ll take all three ships south where we’ll strip this ship of its goods where we’ll sell them for even more gold. Our crew is stretching thin and we can’t operate them all without losing our fighting ability.”

“I hate to admit you’re right,” Stiles said as the longboat full of enemy sailors was lowered. “I seen ten men either dead or badly wounded from our crew from this action alone.”

“Damn,” I cursed as I looked the dead over. Stiles was right, my crew was waning and I wasn’t catching on to it fast enough. “Now I’m tempted to go make port just to acquire more men.”

“Not enough men in Saint Eustatius seem to be interested in joining a privateer crew,” Stiles told me. “Maybe if you came and talked to them more might sign on with us.”

“Alright then,” I said as I settled it in my mind. “We’ll round Nevis looking for another ship or two before heading back. I hate to return with near empty pockets.”

“Nothing empty about this trip,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “Two ships full of trade goods? Lots of profit there.”

“And that is the name of the game,” I said as I caught sight of sails in the distance with my spyglass. That the sails were from the same direction as McGregor should be coming from brought a smile to my lips as I collapsed the glass.

“Something good?” Stiles asked me.

“McGregor is on the horizon,” I told him to make him smile. “Won’t be long now.”

“Good to know,” Stiles said as he looked over the newly acquired ship. “I’ll head over and command the men there. We’ll head south and do as you instructed.”

“See you again in a bit,” I told as I swung back to the Badger. I had the men cast off and lower only the top sails to keep control of the Badger while Stiles did the same. An hour later when McGregor caught up, I signaled him to follow as we headed due south for several hours where we anchored Stiles ship between McGregor’s and mine to offload and transfer cargo and inspect cargoes. Both ships were full of sugar and I had the men offload it all to McGregor’s ship and offload the many tons of basic supplies they were carrying for the trip back to England to help better accommodate the many tons of sugar the ship was carrying.

I also stripped both ships of its armory supplies and had them brought over to the Badger to replenish our own dwindling stocks. I also rummaged through the captain’s cabin on both ships for anything of value and found a matchlock pistol in a case. I took the weapon with me along with both ship’s logs for proof of capture for Governor Fitzherbert as darkness began to fall.

The last thing we did was rig the charge that would blow a large hole in the bottom of the merchantman we weren’t keeping while McGregor sailed away. A long fuse gave a brave sailor time to get back to the Badger before we too shoved off just as the charge blew. We then watched the ship sink and founder, her heavy load taking her down to the depths and out of sight while we anchored not far away for the night to see what the morrow might bring in Nevis.


	7. Fateful Attack

22 December, 1659 = Monday

  
  


By eight bells the next morning the Badger was slow cruising Nevis and on the lookout for any signs of sail. It wouldn’t be until noon that sails would emerge from the harbor and my men would cheer as we gave chase to a twin masted vessel, but something didn’t seem quite right to me. While the Badger wasn’t inherently close when the ship left port, I saw no sailors tending the ship’s cannon. With possible enemy within spying distance of his ship, I figured any competent commander to be ready to deal death and misery to his attacker at the first chance but this one seemed content to just speed away.

“Or run away,” I groused as I realized the enemy captain was trying to do just that. “Full sail!”

My crew readied the main sails and we began to give chase as my helmsman cut the best points of sail. I watched from the foredeck as we sailed not far behind, my crew already bringing out the chain shot for my chasers as they readied them to fire.

“Shall we fire the chasers, sir?” Stiles asked me as the cannons were run out after being loaded.

“Fire at will,” I commanded him and then chuckled at the old joke of why no sailor was called Will while at sea. “Bring that ship to a crawl.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Stiles said cheerily as he began lining up the cannons to fire. I watched as Stiles sighted in the fleeing ship, his first few shots seeming to rip the rigging to pieces and make her sails flutter and thus slow the ship and allow me to catch up, but her blue coated captain seemed resolute as his men readied themselves to fight, but still her cannon were never run out even as we neared close enough to see the captain’s face without the spy glass, a familiar face…

“Shit,” I cursed as I realized where I knew that face from. He had been the captain of the mail runner I had seized days prior, and unless he had resigned his commission, was still an officer of the king’s red coats.

“Sir?” Stiles asked me as I looked frantically around to gauge the wind’s direction

“It’s a trick,” I told him. “They want us to try and board.”

“Grapeshot?” Stiles asked and I nodded.

“Ready the starboard side,” I told him. “We’ll only get one shot before they attack.”

“I don’t see much crew,” he told me. “We could take that many.”

“Pride goeth before the fall,” I countered as the cannons were readied. Once run out, I raised my cutlass to act as a visible signal. “To port!”

My helmsman cut the Badger away from our prize so our cannons lined up with the targets then I brought the cutlass down. The cannons fired almost as one and sent a wall of deadly bits of metal across the ship.

“Prepare to board!” I called as my helmsman brought us back to the other ship. I once again led the charge over, noting with glee the lack of any red coats as I landed on the deck. Then the captain began ranging a bell with reckless abandon, and out of the hold came the army of red coats and my heart sank.

“Kill ‘em all!” I called as my men worked to overpower dedicated soldiers. With so many between us, I was forced to fight for my own life as well as my men’s lives. It was such a chaotic battle I couldn’t even tell whom was winning and just hacked and slashed anything with a red coat until the British realized they weren’t going to win.

“Surrender!” I shouted as I approached the last knot of men.

“Alright,” a soldier said, dropping his longsword to the deck. His fellow soldiers did likewise and I addressed the man. “Police the wounded, take as many as you want in the longboats with you.”

“Yes sir,” he said as he and his fellows began to follow my orders. Problem was, not many of the soldiers were still alive as they had been hacked to pieces in the melee.

“You...” I heard behind me as I watched the red coats load a badly injured sailor into the boats. I looked back to see the enemy captain eyeing me from among the dead lying on the deck, and I approached him.

“Me,” I said as I knelt next to him. “Good tactic. Excellent execution.”

“We...still...failed,” the captain gasped out.

“There is no measure for the will of a man,” I told him as his fellow redcoats joined us. They hefted the injured man to the longboat and cast off to leave me with what was left of my crew, then I realized I had a major problem. I only had about ten men left.

“Where’s Stiles?” I asked them. They all shrugged and began to look around, and I realized I might be out a first mate and a man I might call friend.

“Ready the dead for burial,” I told the remaining crew. “And if you finds Stiles, let me know.”

“Aye,” a red headed man said but his voice was tired and lacked enthusiasm. I began searching for my first mate, soon finding him between the cannons with his throat cut wide open. I hung my head over the side and threw up, tears from the pain of losing the one man I had liked blurring my vision.

Sitting down on the cannon, I remembered our first conversation when I landed in this century and how he had a sister. I couldn’t recall hearing her name, only that she was fat with child at their last parting. I did remember she lived in Devon, but that he wrote her by an inn in Plymouth every Christmas. Well, Christmas was days away and if Stiles hadn’t wrote her yet I’d send his letter, if written, with my own along with a share of our plunder in accordance with the Code.

Sitting there, I surveyed the ship that I had paid so dearly for. It was a dual masted vessel, much larger than my own sloop but still gaff rigged so I figured it was a larger version of a sloop, maybe even a ketch. It had sixteen cannons along her main deck, a raised poop deck over a captain’s cabin that also contained the ship’s helm.

After I found the ship’s access to it’s hold I found that it was like my sloop in that it had two more decks under the main deck, one for berthing and then the main hold in the very bottom. I counted the available hammocks finding I had enough for a hundred and twenty men with the double slung hammocks available in the cramped space. It was a good ship, but I had my doubts it was any sort of small brig and more like a large sloop because the hull seemed just a slightly larger version of my sloop.

“If only Stiles were alive he’d tell me what class of ship this was,” I commented silently in the dark gloom of the hold. Leaving the gloom behind, I saw what was left of my crew taking down the hammocks and taking them back up to the main deck. The reason why was depressing, but I took one of the hammocks down and set myself to the grisly work at hand of clearing the deck by tending to Stiles corpse personally.

When McGregor and his own crew caught up to us some time later, they helped as well but the number of dead were staggering. We had killed over a hundred red coats along with about twenty British sailors while I lost twenty-two men. How had we killed so many? Still, when the last stitch was put through the last sailor’s nose, I took the Holy Bible from my cabin and read aloud from Saint John’s gospel chapter fourteen, verses one through three as it was all I could think of to read from for a funeral. Stiles was the first we pitched into the water, consigning his body to the sea forever.

“Orders?” McGregor asked me once we had the last of the bodies pitched into the water. That it was late and the sun setting was good, it meant we had protection for the night from any attacking ship.

“I’m going to make this ship my new flagship,” I told him as I walked over gangplank to the Badger.

“We have not the crew to man all three,” he countered. “Any ship we pass could take us without a fight.”

“That’s why we’ll have to head back now for Saint Eustatius,” I told him as I entered my cabin. “We’ll sell the Badger and the merchantman, consolidate the crew to my new ship and I’ll see about signing up new crew to join us to replace our lost men.”

“Aye, aye,” he said, agreeing with me as I started to gather my personal belongings and place them back into my sea chest. “I was wondering whom you’d name as quartermaster.”

“As the only officer left on the roster, I leave that position to you,” I told him once I snapped the chest closed. I didn’t really want to replace Stiles but I also knew the position had to be filled.

“Thank you, sir,” he said as I hefted my sea chest without a grunt thanks to my strength and it seemed to impress McGregor. “I’ll do my best by you.”

“First things first,” I told him as I left the main cabin of the Badger. “Transfer the Dutch flag to the new ship and we’ll start to get underway in the morning.”

“Aye sir,” he said, breaking off to carry out my. I carried my sea chest to my new cabin and settled in just as McGregor and another sailor brought in Stiles’s sea chest. I rummaged through it, finding the letter Stiles intended to send and set it aside. Nothing else in his chest seemed personal, just some clothes and stuff intended to maintain his personal hygiene and keep his weapon clean and sharp.

With nothing else to do and the ship quiet, I decided to get some sleep and settled into but but the ship’s creaks and groans making sleep difficult to achieve as I tossed and turned. It took a long time for sleep to finally find me, but one thing I decided on before I did finally nod off was that while sailing was my fantasy and being a pirate was the height of that fantasy, I might be better off keeping the merchantman and becoming a 17th century truck driver than staying a privateer. It just wasn’t good for your health.


	8. Returning to Port

23 December, 1659 = Tuesday

  
  


The next day was a struggle in sailing three ships with less than a handful of people each. Without enough people to maintain the sheets and keep them taught, we weren’t able to sail at full speed. So it was rather late in the day that we spotted Saint Eustatius and began to work on docking the ships. That alone was a nightmare of slow motion, my new ship crashing a bit rougher into the dock than I liked but we tied off and dropped the sheets all the same to find Megara was waiting for me in the same dress she was wearing when I left when we lowered our gangplank to disembark.

“Sloop of war? Megara commented as I descended down the gangplank with the ship’s logs of the ships I had taken under my arm.

“More than likely,” I told her as I put an arm around her shoulders and we walked towards the coming carriage. It seemed the governor stayed apprised of who came and went here.

“Your crew seems a bit thinned out,” she then added.

“Lost most taking my most recent ship,” I told her. “Including my quartermaster, Stiles.”

“Herc’s quartermaster was a creep named Phil,” Megara told me as we walked. Her voice sounded sad, but I think she was starting to look at life with renewed purpose. “He took Herc under his wing and taught him everything he knew about sailing. When Herc got named captain, he named Phil as his quartermaster. The two always seemed inseparable.”

“Stiles was one of the few guys I knew I could actually talk to,” I told her. “He seemed to keep the Badger running and never seemed to miss the finer details.”

“Good quartermasters are like that,” Megara said as we reached the carriage. Simmons opened the door and I turned to Megara, who smiled at me. “When are you leaving again?”

“Not for a week,” I told her to make her smile. “I need to acquire new crew and seek a painter to change the name of my ship.”

“What are you going to name it?” she asked me, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Why don’t you tell me?” I said, then kissed her. “I’m more likely to call it something vulgar and I’m hoping you can find something witty.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said with a chuckle. I kissed her again then climbed into the carriage where she joined me in my meeting with the governor. The ride was quick, and Megara seemed to know the way as we were led to the governor’s office.

“Ah, Megara,” Governor Fitzherbert said when we walked in to his office. The elder head of state was seated behind his ornate desk and seemed comfortable and was smiling as he took in Megara as if familiar with my fiance which he probably was considering her former husband likely stood where I now stood with Megara on his arm. “How’s your husband, the young Mister Hercules?”

“His ship ran afoul of Captain Hook,” Megara said, lowering head as she did so. “I’m told it was sank with all hands.”

“My sympathies,” the governor sighed before looking at me. “Two ships?”

“Three,” I said, handing over the logs. “I was forced to sink one since I lacked the necessary crew to maintain a fighting force. Then a dirty trick by the British captain of the sloop of war I took cost me near on my entire crew. A hundred and forty dead in one single attack of sword on sword.”

“Good Lord,” Eugene breathed and Megara gasped at the claim.

“I’m wholly a wanted man in Nevis, it seems,” I said as I took in Megara’s fearful face. “They know my name and this is the second time I met that captain, though alive at our last parting, he was severely wounded when his remaining men were sent rowing in a longboat for port.”

“They can post a bounty on you all they like,” Governor Fitzherbert commented. “Even send ships after you if they so wish, but they can’t imprison you forever as you would be a prisoner of war.”

“A captain in the king’s navy for real,” I said, nodding in agreement.

“And do for a promotion,” the governor said as he straightened in his chair. He pulled a piece of paper from his desk and wrote a note with his feathered pen, then handed it to me. “As governor of the port of Saint Eustatius under the rule of King William the third, I hereby promote you to the rank of major.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said as I took the note.

“Offer this note to the local tailor and he’ll outfit you with a proper uniform you can wear to our Christmas Eve Ball,” the governor told me as Megara nearly vibrated with enthusiasm. “You’re well on your way to the admiralty.”

“It’s much appreciated,” I said as I felt a bit overwhelmed. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I might acquire additional crew?”

“No, but my sources tell me that Saint Martin has ground to a halt under repeated attacks of the Spanish and pirates,” the governor told me. “They might have a surplus of sailors for those who reach her port.”

“Noted, sir,” I said as I looked down at Megara’s beaming face. “If there’s nothing else, sir?”

“You may go,” the governor said with a smile, and I led Megara back to the exit. We stayed silent until we left the mansion, and it was Megara who broke it first.

“A major?” she said as she laughed. “That’s amazing.”

“Amazing will be getting my ship recrewed before the end of the year,” I told her as we walked along the road back into town in the evening dusk. “I’ll be visiting the tavern tonight.”

“Are you going to be out late?” she asked me and I shrugged.

“At least until the merriment begins to take over and everyone is too drunk to think,” I told her as I thought it over.

“I suppose you’ll want to stay in my apartment,” she said but I couldn’t help but notice the change in her voice. It was sadder and the first thing that popped into my head for the reason was that she didn’t want me sharing the bed she had once shared with her husband. I couldn’t help but feel this was a challenge in our relationship and a chance to show I was an understanding man.

“And ruin the first opportunity I have to do it on something bigger?” I joked with her but it was her relaxing into my side that told me I had done it right.

“I was thinking something more like a brig,” she quipped back at me.

“Didn’t see one,” I quipped right back. “Give it time, it’s only my first week.”

That just made Megara chuckle as we walked along as she led me to the local tailor. Her reasoning was that if we didn’t get my order for a uniform in soon I wouldn’t have it to wear to the ball tomorrow night. I had to agree, mainly as I wasn’t sure how long it would take to sew an entire uniform by hand since I was pretty sure sewing machines weren’t invented for at least a hundred more years.

The tailor measured me out for a full uniform and promised to have everything my rank required ready to go tomorrow at noon. Megara also got fitted for a new dress as well, something I sprung for after watching her ponder which of her meager dresses she would wear to such a formal event. Megara was grateful for such a wonderful present and I could only wonder what she had in store for me later as I dropped her off at her apartment to grab a few necessities so she could spend the next few days aboard my new ship.

I then headed back to my ship where I picked up the ship’s articles. What surprised me most were the names that had been been marked with an ‘x’, likely by McGregor, to leave me the double handful of men left. Seeing those names marked off was a sobering reminder of the grisly nature of the life of a privateer, but we were all the richer for it. The ship’s coffers were filling with each successful attack, and tomorrow morning I’d see about selling the sugar we’d captured with the merchantmen. It would all go into the collective pot to be divied up later, but until then we would constantly add to it, but for now I was off to the tavern to look for recruits so we'd have the manpower to continue adding to the pot.


	9. Visiting the Tavern

23 December, 1659 = Tuesday

  
  


Walking into the tavern, I was instantly reminded of a small town country bar. In one corner a man strummed some sort of ancient guitar while a fire crackled in a fireplace with a large marlin mounted over it and the whole place was made of wood. Even the few people in it reminded me of small town country, right down to the young redheaded guy in the corner with the rifle on his back sipping from a mug with his fellow redheaded pals.

“Enlisting crew?” a pretty blond tavern maiden asked me as I laid out the ship’s articles on a wooden table along with ink and quill.

“I am,” I told her.

“Not many here are looking for a ship to sail on,” she told me. “Except for the brothers over there.”

“Irish?” I asked her but she shook her head.

“Scottish,” she told me. “The one with the rifle is the eldest.”

“If you’d tell them I’m here signing on crew,” I said as I gave her a coin. “And I’d like a bottle of wine.”

“Coming right up,” she told me as she sashayed away. I took a seat at the table and waited and watched. The tavern maid went by the redheads table and talked briefly with them before heading to the bar which then made the redheads look my way. They then talked among themselves for a bit while the tavern maid brought me a bottle of wine and a cup and I began the waiting game, which as a truck driver meant I was over qualified.

“Ye be lookin’ for crew?” the eldest of the redheads asked once he sauntered over. I appraised the lad, couldn’t be much over twenty and his curly red hair tied back in a ponytail but still very much untamed. He was dressed like any other sailor I had seen with a dark blue overcoat, and his accent was a heavy Scottish that seemed of a high range and I bet an excellent tenor. “Name’s Meredith Dunbroch.”

“I am,” I told her, though the name threw me and do a double take. Though well built, his baggy clothing hid “I’ve taken six ships in the past week, but I lost most of my crew in my last boarding action where we killed over a hundred and twenty British.”

“How many men ye have?” Meredith asked me.

“About twelve surviving,” I told her. “I captured the ship, a sloop of war, and brought it back with me though the price I paid was dear. It’ll be my new flagship starting out.”

“Sounds like ye know what ye are doin’ if ye can take a warship,” he said, nodding his head in thought before turning to his brothers. “Harris, Hubert, Hamish! Get over here an’ sign this!”

“Sure,” one of the brothers said as they all stood and filed over.

“Meredith,” I said as I watched him write out his name in neat, fluid cursive. “I could have sworn that was a girl’s name.”

“Ye must be thinkin’ Merida,” he said as he handed off the feathered quill. “Meredith is Welsh, actually, an’ means lord. T’would be funny to see a girl called Lord.”

“Hmm,” I said, wondering where in the timeline that change occurred. I went to school with a girl named Meredith, but not everything stayed the same after three hundred years.

Still, as the three brothers signed off, I realized I was going to have another problem.

“Triplets?” I mused as I eyed the three near identical lads.

“Aye,” one who signed his name as Hubert said. “Mom was right sore over it, I tell ye.”

“Hamish!” Meredith barked the young man who jumped at being called out. It also forced me to do a double take on the man’s signature and realize I was being swindled.

“Lad,” I told him, dropping my voice a bit as I leaned over the table. Hamish got a look in his eyes that told me he knew I was serious about something, but wasn’t sure what it was as I continued on with that lower tone. “Do you really think that as I’m signing all three of you and your brothers that any court will distinguish between you signing your name or Hubert’s?”

“Eh,” he hedged but Meredith ground his teeth as he grabbed the other two by their shirts.

“No funny business,” the eldest brother told them as he shoved one forward. “Now sign off as Hamish, Hubert, and Harris will sign his own.”

“Besides,” I told them as Hubert signed off on the document. “You lads will want your share, right? It’s what you’re signing up for? Funny business can cost you your share, both figuratively and...literally.”

“Oh they’ll mind me,” Meredith growled as he forced the last brother forward. “Unlike some I can tell them apart and know their tricks well.”

“Good,” I told him after the last boy had signed off. “Report to the Badger on the docks at eight bells in the morning. We got a cargo to offload after I find a buyer for it.”

“Cargo?” Meredith asked me, his face scrunched up in thought.

“Some ships, like the two merchantmen I took have cargo as well,” I told him. “As a bonus to the ship’s treasury from which form our shares, I will sell that cargo in port for the best price we can get. It means more booty for us.”

“Now that I can get behind,” Meredith told me with a smile.

“Booty,” one of the triplets chortled before Meredith silenced him with a sharp elbow.

“I assume you can use that musket?” I asked her and that made the triplets laugh as Meredith swelled with pride.

“Part yer hair at a hundred paces, he can,” one of the triplets, Hubert I think, told me. “Another thing mom were sore over...”

“Not now,” Meredith growled as she elbowed him as well. “If ye will excuse us, these three have had too much spirits tonight.”

“Not a problem,” I said as Meredith practically dragged all three back to their table.

Unfortunately, for a long time they were about the only ones in the tavern besides myself and the guitar player. The light outside faded and the redheads seemed to head off for bed, mostly at Meredith’s behest. I was about to call it a night and head home when several men walked in. Their leader was tall and broad shouldered with the one right behind him almost a head shorter with a spare frame. The third one through the door was even shorter and no more than five foot tall but so muscularly built I had no doubt he could pull his own in a fight even if the guy behind him was a beanpole with legs and as tall as his leader. The last man through the door reminded me of my dad in size as he was the same tall and well built person and could probably tip the scale at four hundred pounds easy but I knew from watching my dad that just because you were big didn’t mean you were slow or useless.

The leader scanned the room, but it was only when they passed a lit lantern that I got enough of a look at their faces to realize they were Asian. I really didn’t give a rat’s ass about their ethnicity, their confidant walk in territory they likely knew to be hostile told me each one was competent in something, but it was their military style clothing I wondered about most as it seemed to be some type of leather and cloth armor that was almost matching to the other four in style if not color.

“You are looking for men?” the tall broad shouldered leader asked me in what was surprisingly clean English. I expected more of an accent from the non-natives, but had to admit you never knew where someone grew up and what language they naturally spoke.

“I am,” I told him as I looked the pair over. “You five men soldiers?”

“Once,” the leader told me, glancing back at the slightly shorter man behind him before looking back to me. “We serve the Shunzhi Emperor no more.”

“Make your mark,” I told him as I offered him the quill and ink. He wrote his name down as Li Shang, in English script which spoke of an education if he knew English so well. The head shorter man behind him signed off as Fa Ping in shaky handwriting and I figured that Li Shang had to have come from a well off family. Short and stocky merely signed as Yao while beanpole signed the book as Ling. The last to sign was Chien-Po, who like the others spoke decent English due to their time and familiarity among English sailors but weren’t quite used to reading and writing in our language.

“We sail soon?” Li Shang asked me.

“In a few days,” I told him. “I have recently acquired a few ships in my recent raids on the English and need time to dispose of goods and deal with the upcoming holiday.”

“Your Christmas?” Li Shang asked and I nodded.

“After which we will again sail south and raid nearby British shipping,” I told him.

“You have places for my men to sleep tonight?” I asked and I nodded as I smiled.

“My most recent capture,” I told him as I stoppered the ink bottle and gathered my things. “A sloop of war. If you gentlemen will follow me.”

I led the five men out of the tavern and back to my ship in the darkness while the five seemed to carry on a conversation in what I think was Mandarin with its harsh tones. Megara was waiting by the railing when we got close, a candle in some sort of glass lantern lighting her face. She smiled at seeing me leading back the five men and waited patiently while I pointed out the berthing access and told them to find a hammock and get some sleep.

“Five men, huh,” she said once they had descended the stairs. “I was expecting more.”

“I got four more brothers who will be here in the morning,” I told her I looked the ship over in the full moonlight. It looked glorious and I could hardly wait to get it out to sea with a full crew aboard.

“That’s better than nothing,” she said as I leaned against the railing to watch the faint wind rustle the sheets.

“I hate to say it, but I need to head west,” I told her, hearing her suck in her breath once I had said the words.”

“Hook...”

“Just to get to Saint Martin,” I said as I cut her off, knowing she’d be upset over it. “I need a crew and word has it there’s men wanting to work there.”

“You’re not just doing this to get a chance to take a crack at him, are you?” she accused me.

“Even if I had a full crew I doubt I’d stand a chance against that bloodthirsty pirate,” I told her soothingly. “He sounds vicious and smart, and that’s a cruel combination.”

“So, just for a crew?” she asked me, pulling on my wounded arm. I winced slightly, but I might as well have yelped as Megara snatched her hand away.

“Take the shirt off,” she commanded as she reached for the lantern.

“It’s a couple of scratches,” I told her as I began undoing my shirt. “The former captain of one of the cargo ships was much better with a sword than I am.”

“So, what did you do?” she said as she pulled my shirt open and down my sore arm to reveal the cuts. “Have to kill his entire crew to make him stand down?”

“Hardly,” I said as Megara examined the shallow cuts that had now scabbed over. I knew they’d heal easily as they hadn’t cut entirely through the skin, but they were painful at times when I did anything that pulled on them. “I pinned his sword with a chop and body checked him. Didn’t give the little twerp time to recover.”

Megara raised an eyebrow at that, but shook her head and said nothing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to link the concern in her eyes and actions with my well being, knowing full well that my continued existence was the only thing keeping her from becoming a prostitute. She eventually sighed as she set the lantern aside, then leaned up against the railing.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said as I put my arm around her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” I told her as I gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m starting to wonder if I need to signal my intentions better when I take a ship to prevent this.”

“What you need is a flag,” she informed me. “You’re in a few days, right?”

“Offload cargo, sell the ships, the ball at the governor’s mansion,” I listed off and then sighed. “A few days to observe Christmas, so yeah, I’ll be in for a few days.”

“Let me see what I can dream up,” she said as she put her own arm around me, then yawned. “Are you ready go get some sleep?”

“Most definitely,” I said as I yawned myself. Arm in arm, we walked to the captain’s cabin to get some sleep for the busy day we most definitely were going to have tomorrow.


	10. Getting the Shaft

Chapter 10  
24 December, 1659 = Wednesday

Stepping out of the captain’s cabin in the morning, I saw a handful of my sailors scattered around the deck as they either seemed to be waking up themselves or tending their weapons. The sound of retching drew me to the railing where I found Meredith and his brothers standing with one of the triplets throwing up into the harbor. The other two triplets looked just as green, and I gave Meredith a smirk as he looked up to me.

“Your brothers look like they need a bit of the hair of the dog that bit them,” I remarked as another triplet suddenly hung his head over the side of the dock and began retching as well.

“Spirits be the las’ thin’ they be needin’,” Meredith said as the last triplet pinched his nose at the smell of so much retching. “What they need is good honest work to drive the devil out of them.”

“Work we got,” I told him as I looked over my crew. They had perked up at hearing work, but probably just for something to do rather than any real zeal to just work. “I’m going out to look for a buyer for my cargo, and we’ll spend the day getting it off-loaded.”

“I’ll get these three ready then,” Meredith said as the two boys who had been retching sat down on crates.

“Ply them with water,” I told him as I started down the gangplank. “Both in and out. They’ll come around.”

“Aye cap’n!” Meredith said with too much zeal. The triplets all looked panic stricken as I passed, but they seemed too sick and surprised to move as Meredith began move. He flipped the first over into the harbor, and I chuckled at his surprised gasp.

“Ya daffy brah...” he hollered, his shouting cut short as he the next brother yelled as he was flipped in to join him. I left the four behind as I pushed on, their indistinct shouting soon joining the early morning din as the town got their day started.

Heading towards town, I soon found Simmons strolling towards the docks. He caught sight of me and smiled, angling towards me as if he had a purpose. I stopped, waiting by a stack of crates for the governor’s assistant to cross the street to join me. That he was happy at both seeing me and his earnestness in crossing the street sparked an interest into the man’s morning business, and whether I might be the subject of said morning business.

“Good morning,” he said once he had joined me by the crates. “I see you are out and about this fine morning.”

“Business to attend to,” I told him with a smile.

“The cargo of the ships?” he questioned me and I nodded in return. “It occurred to me well after you left last evening that you would have cargo to sell if not the ships themselves.”

“I figured I would head out this morning to seek a buyer,” I told him honestly. “Then return to the governor once I had the cargo sold and removed to sell the ships to maximize my profits.”

“The governor would be willing to enter into receivership on the ships while you off-load your cargo,” Simmons told me brightly while I nodded that Simmons was speaking my language. “And if you like, I can make the introductions to Mister Glomgold who runs these docks. He’s, how would you say, the man in charge of commerce in Saint Eustatius?”

“An introduction would be most welcome,” I told him as I straightened up. “If you would lead the way?”

“Certainly,” he said as we moved back along the docks.

I briefly saw Meredith fishing his brothers from the harbor before losing them as my vantage point was blocked by my ship, shaking my head at the triplets and their insanity. It was almost as if it was their first outing in a pub which was possible given their youth, but I was going to have to remind those boys that spirits in excess was something to avoid when you had duties to tend to the next day.

Still, I followed Simmons to an office where the sign read Glomgold in gold letters on a plank of wood above the door. Simmons opened the door to reveal a dark interior room where a thin man with coal black hair and suit stood as Simmons entered. The lack of any finery told me he was likely a secretary, further enhanced by the man’s immediate subservient tone.

“May I help you, Mister Simmons?” the man asked us.

“I need to see Mister Glomgold,” Simmons told him. “Is he in?”

“He arrived fifteen minutes ago,” the secretary said as he gestured to the far door.

“Good,” Simmons said as he moved for the door. He opened it without further word or protest from the secretary and led the way into the chamber beyond, and though dimly lit, the man in this room definitely held the personal power of a wealthy individual as he sat and looked with disdain on us as we entered.

“Simmons,” the man said in a light Scottish Brogue as though he might, as Meredith seemed to be, raised in Scotland but spent a life elsewhere to fade his natural accent. “I assume you’ve some reason for being here?”

“A new source of goods,” Simmons told him as he gestured to me.

“Another privateer,” the man named Glomgold said sourly as his eyes roamed over me. “Like rats on a ship, they breed so fast and fail so often.”

“Few take a sloop of war from the British,” Simmons replied, not letting the man’s sour attitude phase him while I swallowed at the news of so many who seemed to fail.

“Bring me back a frigate and I’ll be happy,” the man continued to grouse. “You Dutch haven’t been able to quell the pirates who rob us and your wars make my ships targets to their own privateers.”

“We aren’t responsible for the wars,” Simmons said through clenched teeth. “Blame the Spanish and their greed.”

“Greed,” Glomgold said with a sigh as his eyes settled on me. “And I suppose you want me to shell out bags of gold for your cargo?”

“Just an appropriate pay as any other similar cargo,” I told him. “I won’t pick your pocket needlessly until you begin picking mine.”

Glomgold chuckled darkly at that as he steepled his fingers and leaned back into his chair to partially hide his face in shadow. It somehow seemed to raise the hair on the back of my neck watching him fade into the shadow like some sort of demon even though I could still make out his human features.

“See my secretary next time you make port,” he finally said without leaning forward to let the light touch his face. “He’ll see your cargo safely off the ship and into one of my warehouses, tally it up and offer you the going rate according to the schedule I keep. Poe!”

“Much appreciated,” I told him as I turned slightly to see his secretary enter.

“Poe, this man will be off-loading cargo from he ships he plunders,” Glomgold informed his secretary. “Now I assume the reason you’re here now is you have cargo to sell?”

“Two ships full,” I told him.

“Then get it counted and into the warehouse,” Glomgold barked. I was about to retort I didn’t work for him and he’d better learn some manners when I realized he wasn’t talking to me but his trembling subordinate.

“Yes, sir,” Poe, his secretary, said. “Right away, sir.”

I followed Poe out, the man stopping to grab a hat as we reached the door, glad to be away from such a curmudgeon of a man. It was only when we stepped out into the light though that I heard Simmons breathe a sigh of relief, one seemingly echoed by Poe.

“I don’t see how you can stand working for him,” Simmons grumbled as the three of us began walking to my ship. “Surely there are better people to work for in Saint Eustatius?”

“My sister arranged this,” Poe told him as he shook his head. “She and Glomgold are partners in several enterprises, including a few smaller ports south of here.”

“Anything I should be aware of?” I asked him but he again shook his head.

“Mostly plantations,” Poe told me. “Nothing you’d have to worry over.”

“We have a number of small ports scattered around the Caribbean,” Simmons told me. “I’m not sure where they all are, it’s on a map the governor has and my memory is poor in these matters.”

“I’ll have to bring my charts and mark them down,” I noted, figuring that if I ever quit as a privateer I’d need their locations so I could ferry cargo. Nothing else, I might visit if I ran short on crew again.

Our talk fell flat as Poe began to gather layabouts to him to discuss unloading my cargo. One glance at the rail showed me my crew, including my newest additions, were awake and waiting, even if the triplets still looked wet, and green, behind the ears.

“Which two are you offering?” Simmons asked me, bringing me back to the here and now.

“The Badger, herself,” I said, pointing them out in turn, “And the merchantman.”

“Both look in good condition,” Simmons told me. “I’ll offer you eight hundred for the pair.”

“Which I received last time for a merchantman and a mail runner,” I said, reminding him of the last time I had cashed in ships to the governor.

“True,” he said as he agreed with me. “But this time we can’t offset the cost of ship repairs with the selling of its cargo.”

‘And here I was afraid that rich bastard was going to pick my pockets,’ I thought sourly as I kicked a pebble someone had dropped off the dock. These two were definitely going to get me coming and going.

“Eight hundred it is,” I finally agreed.

“I’ll come back by with your payment then,” Simmons said as he angled off, leaving me with a growing knot of men as a wagon lumbered in close. Poe then stepped in by my side seeming from nowhere and I led him down to my ships. McGregor then led the men down the gangplank, seeming to know I was successful in bartering the cargo and it was time to off-load it.

“A word, captain,” McGregor said, holding me back as both my sailors and Poe’s dock workers boarded the merchantman.

“You know your duties,” I told my sailors as they paused when I didn’t immediately join them. That got them going again, and I turned to McGregor.

“The lady that was asleep in your cabin,” he told me and I nodded. “Megara, I believe her name is. She said she’d return with some supplies to make a flag in a few hours.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding in understanding. “She said she’d make one I could be known by.”

“A pirate flag?” he asked me but I shook my head.

“A private signal,” I corrected him. “Identifying me personally so that I might gather a name for myself and thus make ship captains less likely to resist capture knowing my reputation.”

“That be a fine idea,” he commented. “Well, I better get this lot to movin’.”

I let McGregor go about his business while I watched the crew crack open the grates and set up the overhead lifts and cranes that would lift the large, heavy crates out of the hold. Watching the first one being lifted out as smaller crates and barrels were carted out by hand. A wagon pulled by horses was backed up down the docks and the crates and barrels were loaded onto them. When loaded the wagons pulled away to deliver their heavy cargoes to the warehouse.

Megara returned about four wagons later carrying a roll of black cloth poking out from the satchel over her shoulder. She was smiling, telling me everything was going great as she approached, her hips sashaying as she walked. The men she passed gave her a nod in passing until she reached the gangplank and started up as I gave her a smile and a nod.

“Seems like you found a buyer,” she said as she joined me by the ship’s railing.

“A man named Glomgold,” I told her, seeing her frown at the name.

“That man is a scourge,” she told me bitterly, then added after seeing my own frown, “He’s my landlord.”

“About what I figured,” I told her as I shook my head. “I’d welcome you aboard properly but I’m still waiting on a name.”

“Let’s try the Saucy Mare,” she said as she smiled again. “Nothing really important behind it, but if you manage to take something bigger and better, it’s not a waste of a good name.”

“Sounds good,” I said as I put an arm around her thin waist. “Your ideas for a private signal?”

“There’s always the skull and crossbones, but I was thinking something more like wine and roses,” she told me as she placed her own arm around me. “Maybe crossed swords and a rose?”

“How about crossed roses and a sword,” she countered. “It’ll look more unique.”

“That’ll work,” I told her as we moved to the captain’s cabin. “How long do you think it’ll take to sew?”

“I’m not the best embroiderer,” she told me. “Days at least, maybe a week or two. The important thing is I have time to devote to it.”

“Take all the time you need,” I told her as she opened the door to enter. “Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”

“Is that why it takes you so long to knock off for bed?” she said with a smile as she cocked her hip.

“Be glad I knock off,” I responded to her saucy language with a wicked smile of my own. “Otherwise, we’d be both be up all night long.”

“Can you last that long?” she asked me.

“What my manhood can’t I make up for with other talents,” I responded with a never faltering smile.

“Don’t I know it,” she said as her smile deepened. “Well, this flag won’t embroider itself.”

“Remember, the ball is tonight,” I said as I looked at the hard working men under me as they unloaded the merchantman. “It’ll probably look ill on my character that I not perform so well after spreading myself so thin.”

“If this one is anything like the governor’s Fall Gala it might prove to be your equal,” she commented.

“Just one more engagement to survive,” I replied to that, not knowing how else to phrase it. “Besides, you will find I have many talents and that though music be among them, dancing isn’t.”

“There I can help you,” she said as her smile to shifted to one of sympathy. “Hercules had the same problem and we developed a set of hand signals to make him at least passable.”

“We’ll go over it when it comes time,” I said my eyes going back to my crew as they unloaded.

“Off with you,” Megara told me. “Plenty of time until the ball.”

“Until then,” I said as I turned to leave Megara in my cabin. I heard the door close as I moved back to the railing as a wagon started off with a load of goods. It was going to be a long day.


	11. Christmas Eve, 1659

24 December 1659 = Wednesday

  
  


Walking arm in arm with Megara to the governor’s mansion that evening, I felt wholly uneasy in my new ‘uniform’. What had been delivered by the tailor had been a mere coat and copper gorget which, as I found out, compromised the entirety of the Danish major’s uniform and I was expected to provide the rest, usually from my normal wear. Except for the white epaulets on the shoulders, there were no other distinctive markings on the jacket to dictate rank which left me confused, but after putting on a clean set of clothes and donning the jacket and gorget, decided I was dressed for the night. Megara joined me in a purple satin dress that I felt was too revealing for the period, but it did make me wonder where the ultra-conservatism about cleavage would later come from.

“Worried about the dancing still?” Megara asked me as the mansion came within sight.

“Some,” I admitted to her. “I also figured there would be more to the uniform than a jacket.”

“A jacket only would be a captain,” Megara told me. “The gorget is given only to majors and colonels have a sash over their right shoulder as well. Admirals will be the ones with hats, and if you see anyone with a large medal over their heart that will be a baron, but I haven’t heard of a baron entering port so I doubt we see one tonight.”

“Just the higher officers of the king’s navy?” I asked her to get a nod of agreement. “I can see the simplicity of it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she told me as we entered the mansion’s grounds and began to pass what I thought might be wealthier merchants and citizenry hanging on the outskirts of the party. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole party, after a few hours you’ll see the party thin considerably and no one will say anything about you leaving.”

“We shall see,” I told her as I nodded to Simmons who stood guard at the door. He nodded as we passed, entering the mansion to find it packed with naval officers, most seemed to be either captains or majors like myself but there were some colonels among us.

“Greetings, major,” I heard as Megara and I walked through the crowd. I stopped and turned to see Rapunzel dressed in an exquisite dress in varying shades of purple and gold trim. I didn’t see the governor, so I figured he and his wife were doing the social butterfly thing with their guests.

“And a fair evening to you, Miss Ryder,” I said in greeting to her. “May I introduce my fiance, Megara.”

“I believe we’ve met,” Rapunzel said with a smile on her face. “In the company of a young Greek, I believe?”

“Hercules,” Megara said, trying to be conversational with the slightly off-kilter woman. “His ship was sank by the known pirate, Captain Hook. There were no survivors.”

“Oh no,” Rapunzel said as she covered her mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“I suppose even if he had been a humble merchant mariner he still would have been susceptible to pirate attack,” Megara conceded.

“Hook is a menace,” Rapunzel agreed. “And he’s completely wrecked Saint Martin. King Frederick has written Flynn several letters expressing his...displeasure...that Saint Martin hasn’t taken better foothold. His most recent letter was asking for consideration for a replacement governor, but I fear that Saint Martin won't recover unless Hook is stopped.”

“I’d need a good frigate and a full crew to even try,” I mused aloud but Megara tightened her hold on my arm at the thought. “It’d be best to summon a ship-of-the-line to beat Hook into submission.”

“That was Flynn’s recommendation as well,” Rapunzel informed me, “But...it’s not financially viable. The best we can do is recommend people stay clear of the area and to run at the first sign of sails on the horizon.”

“An admiral course for those wishing to live a healthy life,” I said in agreement as a band began to tune their instruments. That familiar screech and wail was unmistakable and brought a wistful smile to my face.

“A smile,” Rapunzel said happily as she turned to where I could see the violins, cellos and what I thought might be a bass being tuned in the corner and my smile deepened at the thought of such familiar instruments being played tonight. “Looking forward to the dance, are we?”

“The dance itself, not so much,” I admitted as I brought my gaze back to Rapunzel’s beautiful smile. “But as a musician, I can’t help but enjoy music itself.”

“Then you should hang around after most of the festivities are done for the evening,” Rapunzel teased. “I would love to hear you play something.”

“I’d be almost at a loss without a harpsichord,” I said as I quickly named the era’s piano equivalent though I had no idea how to replay the older version of the piano though I knew mentally the only real difference was that the string was somehow plucked instead of hammered like in modern pianos.

“We have one!” Rapunzel exclaimed happily. “It was a gift from father though I have to admit to not having mastered it.”

“Then I shall have to showcase my own talents later,” I said with a smile but warring with myself that I didn’t even know the range a harpsichord had compared to a modern piano. I knew I would lose a few octaves, at least one on either end, but that also led to my own thoughts of what to play as I had no idea how to play anything in the Baroque era, what little I knew of piano pieces came from Mozart and Beethoven who would be Classical era composers in a hundred years when it hit me that I did know a piece from this era, or at least the story went.

“Looking forward to it,” Rapunzel said as I spotted Eugene clapping his hands for everyone’s attention. “That’s my cue! Enjoy your evening!”

With that Rapunzel began to wind her way through the crowd as I looked to Megara to find her beaming with pride. “You’re handling this way better than Hercules ever did.”

“I’ve done little except share a conversation with a woman,” I said as she began to lead me by the arm through the crowd as Eugene began to call for Rapunzel by name.

“I didn’t think you had much in the way of musical talent but you’re promising to hold out for a solo?” she said than laughed. “Hercules would have turned three shades of red and begged off rather than offer a private concert let alone dance.”

“I just lack the coordination to be an effective dance partner,” I admitted to her. “And my timing tends to be slow.”

“Just follow my hand signals and you’ll do fine,” she commented as I noticed Rapunzel joining her husband.

“Now that my beautiful wife has joined me,” Eugene said in the silence that followed. “We’ll start our Christmas Ball off properly. All parties interested in dancing join me on the dance floor. Everyone else gets to watch!”

“Come on,” Megara said as we followed several of the officer’s and their dates to a parquet floor. Rapunzel and Eugene took the center of the floor while Megara and I were on the edge where she guided me to the starting position before backing off and facing me as the music began to play a piece for a string quartet.

Following the directions given and my own limited timing I had to figure we were doing pretty well given I never stumbled over my own two feet or fellow patrons like many of the captains and majors. I also saw what was likely many a potential romance end in embarrassment as many a young lad were dragged off the floor by a scowling woman.

“Poor lad,” Eugene said during a brief reprieve after an hour of dancing as he and I watched a woman dress down a captain I’d seen faceplant in his dance mate’s bosom. “No better place to land though.”

“That’s a matter of perspective,” I told him and he chuckled. “For him that would be true. For her, she’d rather he never tripped at all in the presence of others.”

“Just glad I have a good grasp of terpsichory,” Eugene told me, the term throwing me. “It’s about the only way I can keep up with Rapunzel. Sometimes I wonder if all she does is practice while I’m busy with affairs of state.”

“Maybe in the past,” I said as I noticed Megara and Rapunzel talking among themselves. “Considering the quality the one piece of art I saw her working on when we first met, I’d say she’s since moved on to painting and mastering that as well.”

“I...I wouldn’t know,” he finally admitted. “Sometimes her eccentricities make it difficult to be around her, her always calling me by another man’s name, for example.”

“I know there’s difficulty in dealing with a loved one who’s not all there,” I told him consolingly. “Especially when it’s someone you’re quite close with.”

“We’ve had two children together,” he told me as he looked at his wife. “Maximus and Pascal are two fine upstanding gentlemen who do me proud as officers in the king’s service.”

“But still,” I said as I looked at the man standing beside me and seeing the pain in his eyes. “Doesn’t curve the pain of there being something between the two of you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean to bore you with my own problems...”

“A load shared becomes easier to bear,” I told him even though I knew that even in modern times cases like this could only be counseled and hoped to clear up the confusion. Past that, there was little we could do except keep them out of society if they became irrational.

“I hope you’re ready for another round of dancing?” Eugene said as the ladies returned.

“Thrilled,” I said as I quoted Bruce Willis and with the same tone.

“You and the governor looked to be in deep conversation,” Megara said as Rapunzel dragged Eugene away.

“Just discussing his wife,” I told her as she took my arm and we began to drift back to the dance floor.

“Poor thing,” Megara agreed as we seemed to follow the governor and his wife to the dance floor. “Being kidnapped by pirates? At least they found her and brought her home.”

“There are...other...considerations,” I said as we took our places. “I’ll tell you later.”

Megara nodded as we began to dance again, though as I looked around the dance floor saw the crowd was already thinning. This time only the best dancers seemed to be on the floor as not a single performer made a terrible misstep or blunder, even as the dances became more complicated and intricate. Megara seemed proud that I could hold my own even though I didn’t quite get the timing right to do anything fancy like twirl her but we were among the short list of those who were still dancing as the last tune was played.

“Bravo!” people called as we took our final bow and the musicians began to pack up for the evening. I didn’t know how late the evening was but it seemed vastly more personal now than what it had been.

“I know some attending tonight have stories to regale us with,” Rapunzel called cheerily as she seemed to glow as all attention fell to her. “But first, I have learned that one of you plays the harpsichord.”

The assembled cheered at that and feeling obligated moved to join her as four men hefted the instrument into the room. It was smaller than a piano by almost half and was shocked to find the standard black and white key colors inversed so that the normally large white keys were black in color instead. A stool was proffered for my use and I sat to the keys where a run a few notes across the keys to the general merriment as I looked like a fool but was just really getting a feel for where middle ‘C’ was and found that the song I wanted to play barely fell in the range as a few notes would be the furthest left one could go.

“Are you actually capable of playing it?” one man, a colonel asked me jovially. “Or do you merely fancy yourself as one who can play such a difficult instrument?”

“An organist taught me to play this,” I said to give credit to Johann Pachelbel, the man whose work I would be borrowing tonight. That he would be about six right now was beside the point, I still didn’t want to steal his thunder even if it would be twenty years in coming. “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been some time since I’ve sat to play.”

“Oh go on,” Rapunzel said encouragingly as Eugene held her close nearby. I gave her a smile as I put my hands on the keyboard, closing my eyes to remember them properly, then began to play Pachelbel’s Canon in C, not the usual D major it was often played in as a wedding march. The smirk quickly fell of the colonel’s face as I played, quickly catching sight of Rapunzel’s gleaming visage before I returned my concentration to the keyboard and the more complicated melody as the song progressed, though really it was just a round like “Three Blind Mice” or “Row, Row, Row your boat.”

I played on and on, letting the melody build as I played and glad my fingers were nimble and the notes filling my memory to let me play without error even though the harpsichord seemed a register above the normal sound of a piano, almost as if I were playing a guitar through a keyboard array.

When I hit the last four notes in the song holding the keys to let them ring, I finally looked around to see the smiles of those who enjoyed my work. Rapunzel herself seemed delighted and Megara placed a hand lovingly on my shoulder as I received a wondrous round of applause from the assembled.

“Lovely,” Rapunzel said once the clapping had died down. “Would you care to play again?

“Sure,” I said as I wondered what I should play. The Canon was one of the only pieces of Baroque music I knew, but not the only piece for the piano. “How about something more fitting to the occasion?”

“Certainly,” Rapunzel said as I lifted my hands again to the keyboard, this time playing an old Christmas carol that, again, started its life in a church when the organist became sick and the pastor needed a piece to play for service.

“Silent night,” I began to sing, the familiar carol flowing easily through me as I sang. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as I continued on and sang through the songs four verses, somehow remembering the third verse even though we never sang more than the first, second and last verse to any song with more than three in a Baptist church. As with the first song, not one error or problem marred my performance as I continued on, finally finishing the song with another moment of silence before people realized the performance was over and began to clap and cheer.

“Marvelous,” Eugene called over the cheering crowd and I thought I saw tears on Rapunzel’s cheek before she turned to kiss her husband.’

“Marvelous performance,” the colonel that haggled me earlier said to me as I stood from the harpsichord. “Rather gifted, I’d say.”

“Thank you,” I said as Megara pulled herself in close to my side.

“I hate to break up the party,” Megara informed the group. “But it’s been a long night.”

“Too right,” a few of the other ladies said as they pulled on their beaus.

“Rapunzel, governor, the party was a pleasure as always,” I said as I bowed to my hosts.

“Anytime, major,” the governor said with a smile of his own. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

“You too, governor,” I said to not call him by a name and risk upsetting either him or Rapunzel. “My lady, a pleasure as always.”

“The pleasure was mine,” she said with a glowing face. “I’m going to have to have you play again at our next gala.”

“Then I shall rehearse,” I said to cover the fact I didn’t have any other songs to play just yet. “Until then, fare thee well.”

Turning, Megara and I left the party and the mansion, finding the night was in full swing. With no light to guide our way, Megara huddled close to me as we left the dim light leaving the mansion and began entering the dark town.

“I didn’t think you could play that beautifully,” Megara finally said as we walked along, our pace slow from the long evening. “I know you play a few instruments, they’re in your cabin, but a harpsichord?”

“I didn’t grow up at sea,” I told her, though I didn’t want to tell her too much. “And I mostly taught myself to play the other instruments but my mother wanted me to learn the harpsichord so I could replace the aging musician at our church. I think she wanted the extra prestige it would bring.”

“Well, I’m the one who’ll be cashing that in,” she said with a chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever danced the whole night before, but don’t worry about leaving when we did. No one else plays an instrument and I can tell you everyone’s war story.”

“I’m definitely going to be paying for it tomorrow,” I said as I held her close. “Might be a good time to stay home in bed.”

“Now that, I can get behind,” she said jokingly as we rounded a corner and found the docks, the few lanterns that hung from ships giving wan light to navigate the docks with.

“I’ll be the one who’s doing the getting behind,” I joked with her as I led her through the darkness, my eyes seemingly better adjusted to the dark night. I could, and had, driven at night without headlights but only because my alternator had went out and needed to get it down the road to pickup the part, install it, then make early morning delivery.

“Looking forward to it,” Megara said as I found the Saucy Mare and we climbed aboard.

“Welcome aboard, cap’n,” Meredith said once I reached the top.

“Standing lookout?” I asked the young lad and he nodded.

“McGregor’s orders, sir,” the young lad said. “He wanted to make sure no one messed with our stocks.”

“Very well,” I said, letting that one stand as I couldn’t see any wrong in it. “How many aboard the ship tonight?”

“Me and twenty others,” the lad said decisively. “The China-man named Shang will relieve me at eight bells.”

“How much longer is eight bells?” I asked, since I wasn’t sure of the time.

“Eh,” Meredith said as she pulled the lantern down to look at the hourglass timer ships carried to ring the bells by. He studied it for a minute, then shrugged before flipping the timer over and setting back down on the barrel to run out again.

“Merry Christmas, cap’n,” he said brightly once he straightened up and touched his cap again in respect to me and the lady.

“Merry Christmas,” Megara and I said together, then chuckled as Meredith went to ring the bell to mark the time properly. The ring was soft in deference to those asleep, but I was really past caring. They could ring the Bells of Notre Dame and I’d just sleep right through it.

Meredith soon disappeared down to get Shang up to stand his watch and Megara and I slipped into our cabin, both of us too pooped to enjoy the high of the night’s festivities and stripped in the darkness before crawling into bed together and, with Megara spooned up my front, soon fast asleep.


	12. A Bitter Fight

27 December 1659 = Saturday

  
  


After taking Christmas day off where I didn’t much get outside my own cabin for reasons, I finally sailed the Saucy Mare out of Saint Eustatius on Friday. I called a meeting and pitched my idea for getting more crew before engaging the English but too many of my original crew thought they could handle things with just twenty one people, or maybe they didn’t want to share the plunder. Problem was my rank of captain wasn’t as all encompassing as I wanted it to be and I really only had power when a fight was underway or about to start.

So it was that on the next day after rounding the island on which Nevis was located that we spotted sails in the distance that I was truly in command again as we tacked in behind the fleeing ship. As we followed along I had the helmsman keep us a few points off the fleeing ship’s line to better catch the wind. The other ship itself kept an almost dead into the wind direction that made it impossible to follow directly which is why I kept my own ship a few points off line as I figured to nearly catch up to the ship before turning into the wind and lay her irons briefly before coming out of it on a better course to intercept.

““McGregor!” I called and brought my first officer in close and handed him the spyglass. “What do you make of that English ship?”

“I’ll be,” he said as he looked it over with the spyglass. “A Royal Sloop?”

“See her cannon?” I asked him, having already noted the ship’s heavy cannon count myself and felt fear run up and down my spine at the disparity between a well-fielded warship and what I could muster. “I count ten on her one side. We barely field six.”

“Bloody hell,” he swore as he lowered the spyglass and handed it back to me. “I don’t recommend this one, sir. Not one bit.”

“I agree,” I said as I looked at the ship again, watching as it’s sails briefly billowed in the wind before filling out again as it flirted with laying itself in irons before coming away to regain the wind. It also meant we were catching up fast as my ship had a good sight on the wind but it just felt wrong. What kind of fool sailed so into the eye and not just close hauled it?

“They’re turning!” the man in the crow’s nest called and I looked again. Sure enough, as the sloop came off her last flirt with the irons, she kept turning to show us her starboard cannon which were suddenly eclipsed by gray smoke.

“Down!” I called as the first round of cannon sailed overhead with a whine. “Helm! Three points to starboard, give us a broadside!”

“Aye,” Ling called before he turned us to better fill the sheets as my crew readied the cannon to fire.

“Fire and keep firing!” I shouted as we lined up with the sloop, noting they were already working on reloading their cannon and getting ready to slug it out with us. My cannons roared a response to the enemy ship and watched the ship for damage. I noted our shot also tended to be low, but one round hit the railing of the enemy ship to blast a few crewmen into oblivion.

“Good shot!” I called as the men quickly set to reloading, the two nearest me at the rear were commanded by Ping who called out in sequence the reloading order, placing the fuse as soon as the powder was rammed home before beginning to aim it while calling out the orders to reload the other. Between the six men Ping used on the two cannon, the little fire snapper kept the two cannon roaring even as he adjusted his shot and then with a snap I could almost hear, watched as he dropped the main mast on the deck on top of the cannons to stop them cold for a time.

“Hard to port!” I called to Ling who turned the ship towards the nearly disabled sloop and we began closing the distance fast. With nearly a mile between us, I had to figure they would get one more shot off before we closed enough to board and for once I was glad to be wrong. Our ships collided with a crash that knocked several sailors still struggling to stand back to the deck to start over again.

“Charge!” I yelled as I jumped the railing to land on the enemy vessel and engage the crew directly, the crack of a gun nearly bringing me up short as I saw a man who was cocking his piece jerk as if he’d been slapped. I ran the man through to stop him cold, looking back to see Meredith taking a musket from a triplet as the other two reloaded.

“Give ‘em hell!” Meredith shouted as he lined up again, the crack of his weapon dropping a redcoat that had just sliced through one of my sailors and would have been headed for me next.

“Form a line!” I called as a thought hit me as Meredith dropped a third sailor, his brothers apparently fast at reloading. “Form a line! Let Meredith shoot them all!”

Shang shouted something guttural and the Asians with him all quickly formed up a battle line on my right while my left struggled a bit. The redcoats looked perturbed as another crack sounded overhead, then roared as they tried to charge through lest Meredith actually shoot them all whilst they waited. The fighting turned bloody for what seemed like hours, and more than once I found myself nearly swinging on a friend as the fog of war was thick in this battle. Still, when the fighting died down, I counted those still standing to find seven men left of my crew, the rest laying on the bloody deck and not moving.

“Ping!” Shang yelled as he searched the deck for his fallen man, finally finding him near the broken mast with a bloody gash turning his dark hair red. Shang shook the man, who seemed to come around and was helped to his feet as there seemed to be nothing majorly wrong with him other than being knocked out during the fight.

“Search the dead for wounded,” I told them as I looked around, finding Meredith and two of the triplets helping the third to his feet. The injured one favored his leg, probably injuring his ankle during the fight and would be fine if that was all that was wrong. “Take our wounded to the Saucy Mare.”

“I can work,” Ping protested and I nodded.

“Then work,” I agreed with him. “You may feel tired soon, but don’t go to sleep. Understand?”

Ping nodded, then he and the other Asians began to move among the crew looking for wounded. I joined them, Meredith and the two standing triplets joining us as we checked the dead, finding we had been rather thorough and deadly in taking the new ship.

After checking for other wounded and coming up empty, we began readying the dead for burial at sea and throwing them over as soon as the final stitch was sewn taking easily the rest of the day to complete with just the nine of us, myself included. Once our grisly task was done and with the destroyed mast tossed into the sea, we had cleaned ourselves up as best we could before sitting to the officer’s table together to discuss our next move.

“We donna have enough men to sail both ships, do we?” Meredith asked me.

“We could field one smartly enough,” I confirmed for him. “The Saucy Mare is in great shape all things considered. The Surprise, on the other, will need some extensive repairs due to several ribs being broken near the water line. She’ll hold fine until port, but I doubt she could take another ship in the meantime. That could take weeks to complete.”

“What are your intentions, then,” Meredith asked me pointedly.

“Personally, I’d rather have the larger ship,” I told the lad who scoffed at the idea.

“We easily outgunned her,” Meredith countered.

“No, _he_ outgunned her,” I said as I pointed to Ping who looked scared as I pointed at him. “Most excellent shooting, by the way.”

“Most welcome,” Ping said, realizing I was paying him a compliment and not angry with him. “Shang taught me well.”

“If I had time, maybe could have taught better reloads,” Shang mused but shook his head. “Too little time and training.”

“Next time, we’ll make time,” I said in agreement.

“I say we put this up to a vote,” Meredith said as the triplets backed her up. “The Saucy Mare or the Surprise?”

“We follow him,” Shang said as he nodded to me. “I failed to follow orders once and can never go home.”

Ping said something in his native language that sounded supportive as he put his hand on Shang’s shoulder as the larger man bowed his head. The other Asians with him seemed equally supportive of their leader and I wondered what had transpired to make Shang defy orders and leave with four men in tow who stood ready to die at his command.

“So we take the Surprise then,” Meredith said as he realized the vote was against him and sagged in defeat. “A month wasting away in port.”

“Eight men together could easily sail one ship,” I said as I recalled our earlier argument. “Really only takes one to get anywhere.”

“One?” Meredith asked me. “Ye’d let me have the Saucy Mare?”

“Call it an equitable parting of the ways,” I responded. “I take Shang and his, the Surprise and half the loot taken to date while you and your brothers can take the Saucy mare and the other half. We part ways here and you can head back to port to collect your own crew and start your own life as a privateer. I’ll even write a letter explaining you didn’t mutiny and take the ship to protect you in Saint Eustatius if you intend to go that direction.”

“The Surprise and her extra guns means that much to ye?” Meredith asked me and I nodded in agreement as I remembered the fear that had gripped me in this last engagement and knew that it was only Meredith’s shooting and the strength of Shang and his men I hadn’t been taken prisoner or outright killed. I had let myself get lured too close and felt rather foolish.

“That and the knowledge to use them,” I said as I looked at Shang and his men and wondered how fast a well trained crew could fire off a ten gun broadside with a full crew and decided it was fast. “I’m one mast down so I won’t be able to keep up with the Mare back to port, but I’ll get her back and fixed up.

“So this be it, then,” Meredith said with a nod.

“This is it,” I confirmed as I extended a hand. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Meredith said as we shook hands.

“Shang, you and your men grab your personal belongings and transfer them to the Surprise,” I told him as I stood from the table. “Meredith and I will split the loot then I’ll bring my own items over later.”

“Yes, sir,” Shang said quickly as he and his fellow soldiers filed out of the officer’s mess leaving me alone with Meredith and his brothers who rose with me and followed me down to the loot chest where I opened it up and Meredith and I began to separate it equally into different chests. Once we had it loaded, Hamish helped me carry it over to the Surprise where I posted Chien-Po on it to protect it from theft while I went back for my personal items.

With the ship clear and free, and wanting to make sure Meredith didn’t get greedy and take the rest of the doubloons, I my crew weigh anchor in the night and set the main sails as we headed west and away from Nevis. It would also prevent any adventurous captain from happening on us in the dark and made it safer for us in the long run the further from Nevis we stayed, then I turned us back towards Saint Eustatius with the sunrise.

It was two days later before I returned with the Surprise to Saint Eustatius, all of us dog tired from being up for days with little to no sleep and glad to be safe at port. The Mare was nowhere in sight making me wonder if Meredith had angled for Saint Martin or taken it to Nevis, a possibility given that she was Scottish and not a wanted felon there like I was.

Still, as we tied off the Surprise and raised the last of the sails, I was just glad to be docked again. Megara was running towards the dock as a gangplank was tied into place, running up to embrace me with tears in her eyes.

“I thought you were heading for Saint Martin,” she finally told me when she let go. “I was so worried.”

“Crew decided to head south to Nevis,” I told her honestly. “Their mistake.”

“Mistake?” she asked then looked at the five Asians lined up along the rail. “Where’s the rest?”

“Besides the four brothers whom survived and left in the Mare, dead,” I said and Megara paled so I took her in my arms again. “I got lucky this time, which is why I came back in the bigger ship.”

“I just don’t want to lose you like I did Hercules,” she sobbed into my shirt.

“I have no intentions of leaving for at least a month,” I told her and she looked up at me with curious, tear filled eyes. “The Surprise needs a few ribs repaired and I figure that’ll take at least a month to properly replace. Until then, I have no ship to sail on.”

“Then you’ll need a place to stay,” she said with a hiccup as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “If we’re going to be husband and wife, you should stay with me when you’re home.”

“I didn’t want to impose,” I told her with a smile.

“You’re my husband,” she said decisively. “It’s only right.”

“Alright,” I said, then gave her a kiss on the lips which she returned.

“Now, about these five kids I’ve adopted...”


	13. Launch of the Scarlet Wench

24 February, 1660

  
  


Waking up in bed with my wife, as I’d done every morning for nearly two months, felt like a dream. Just having a hot woman like Megara spooned up beside me was the part I couldn’t quite fathom as I’d once figured I’d never have a woman’s attention but Megara had latched on to me with a sincerity that always left me sure I was still dreaming every morning when I woke up. As always, she would sense me being up and roll to face me, her charming smile seeming a part of the dream as we would kiss and make quiet passionate love lest we wake our fellow housemates.

Usually it was the five soldiers waking up and getting around that would break up any further fun we might have for though they were quiet, the wooden floor upstairs creaked a fair bit making impossible to move silently. That would prompt Megara and I to rouse out of bed ourselves and start our day, but today was different in that the soldiers had returned to my ship to stand guard over it as it was ready for launch, her broken ribs and other wear and tear she had suffered in her time had been repaired and a new mast ordered and brought in from what would one day be Virginia.

“Should I expect you back tonight?” she asked me after we broke apart.

“Probably long after I usually go to bed,” I admitted to her as I moved to sit up in bed leaving her exposed and nude to my eyes. “I’ve got to round up some men and return to my duties.”

“Still thinking about going to Saint Martin?” she asked me pointedly and I dropped my eyes and nodded solemnly.

“If I need the sailors,” I admitted to her and I could see the hurt in her eyes as I admitted that to her. “If I get, say forty sailors tonight, I won’t go.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she asked as she moved closer to me, her nude form full revealed. I nodded in the wan firelight of the fireplace as I pulled her close, kissing her as I did so and knowing that I could die in the next boarding as Meredith had quite well proven when he took to shooting sailors at our last action. It had sparked ideas for me to pursue in my downtime, and I took care to keep those ideas secret. Still, making what could be considered modern day bullets for my pistol had become a hobby, and I was proud to say that hobby had paid off and I could reliably hit a target at twenty yards.

“I just got used to you being here,” she said as we broke apart.

“I figure soon you’ll have your own little one to care for the way we’ve been at it,” I said and she chuckled.

“Maybe,” she conceded, rubbing at her belly which I thought was puffing out a bit. “I’ll know soon enough.”

“It’s been, what? Two months since your time?” I asked her and she nodded. “I know a woman misses one every now and again, but...”

“Two in a row and you know,” she told me with a smile. “If I don’t start in the next week I’ll ask the doctor.”

“Then I’ll shall come home expectant,” I said as I stood from the bed to get dressed. “You always seem to know when I pull into port.”

“Haven’t you noticed they ring the bell when a ship is sighted?” Megara told me and I gave her a nonplussed look as she stood and joined me, going to her chest where she knelt down as she continued on. “That tells me someone is coming. Hercules left me this so I’d always know when he returned.”

Megara stood and showed me a cylindrical leather case which, when I opened it, found it housed a six inch spyglass. Megara allowed me to take the spyglass to the window where I extended the tube to its full length and found the magnification was extremely high.

“Interesting piece,” I said as I collapsed it and returned it to her.

“It come from an English admiral,” she said as she put it away. “Hercules had one similar to it so he gave me that one so I would always know when he was returning home.”

“It’s a good gift,” I told her as she put it away. “I’ll try to always remember to stand by the helm as we enter port so I’m easily found.”

“Thank you,” she said as she shut the chest and sealed the telescope away. “We better get you dressed. You have a meeting with the governor today, a ship launching.”

“And chores to do,” I said as Megara and I both finished dressing ourselves simply as we began to do the morning chores together. I had known enough from watching movies to know the basics but the past two months had still been an eye opener.

Still, I milked the cow and gleaned the two eggs from Billina, one of two hens we had and delivered that to Megara who was already stoking the fire so she could cook with it. I dropped off the milk and eggs and went back out to clean out the stall for the cow and let her out into the paddock, pitch down some hay and bring in some firewood. The cow, two hens and a rooster were additions I’d given my new wife, but the other hen was currently sitting with a brood of about five under her which would grow the brood and produce more eggs.

It was a band-aid on a wound that I knew would open up eventually but I was hoping that I would last long enough for the chicks to hatch and grow into hens so that Megara would be able to have a well of eggs to sell for money. The cow was to help provide substance through a supply of milk and the only real downside I’d know would come up was that the cow would eventually dry up and need to have another calf to get the milk supply flowing again.

After breakfast, Megara and I dressed for the day with Megara in one of her Grecian style dresses and I in my major’s uniform. We walked arm in arm to the beach, taking one last look at the ship I had repaired and reading the name on the aft name board in gold lettering; Buxom Wench. The ship also had been upgraded with copper plating below the waterline and was designed to prevent worms, seaweed and barnacles from damaging the wooden planking, the whole process leaving me broke. Thankfully, my supplies were stored and would be reloaded as soon as the ship was redocked, so I had no further costs.

“Major!” Eugene said as he noticed me approaching. “Looking forward to getting you back in the water.”

“I still need a crew,” I informed him as the three of us walked along the port side of my ship. “But, crew or not, I intend to sail with what I have on the morrow.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said as he stepped in close. “My most recent dispatches from King Frederick indicate he is waiting on the productivity reports of several settlements before he makes his choice for the new governor of Saint Martin. Given the time to traverse that distance, in a week or two I might have a special mission for you.”

“Escort the new governor to Saint Martin,” I guessed and Megara clenched my arm tighter. “Might I assume the mission is mine to chart how I please, if I please?”

“Of course,” Eugene told me gladly. “Thankfully none of the prospects are in the direction of San Juan and range south on the continent, so it should be safe travels.”

“Good to know,” I said as Megara relaxed at hearing I wouldn’t have to face Captain Hook unless I encountered him by chance, and I should be able to outrun him if that should happen. “I have no idea when I would be able to return though.”

“There’s time,” Eugene said as we sidled closer to the ship. “I’m looking forward to what you can do with this ship.”

“As am I,” I said once we approached the rope ladder I would use to board my ship for launch. “My dear, do you wish to join me?”

“Of course,” Megara said before I looped a rope over her head and shoulders and positioned it for her to sit on as it was hefted. The soldiers then lifted her handily as I climbed the ladder, joining on her on the deck long after her having slipped free of the rope.

The ceremony for putting the Wench back in the water went off without a hitch and the soldiers and I quickly sailed her over and docked her where her supplies and cannons were reloaded back onto the ship and secured. Megara seemed to love the Wench, even going so far as to having stitched new curtains for the captain’s cabin to bring a little color to my dreary world while at sea. For me, the part that made it feel special was the new signal flying from the mast under the Danish flag, also embroidered by Megara, that would signal to all it was I, Major Owen Hunt, who was coming.

That evening, once all was settled and stowed away, I returned Megara to home and retrieved the new Articles I would sail by, having written them myself while landlocked. Based on the set written by Stiles, this new set established the Wench as my own personal property, or another ship taken during the course of my privateer duties, with all other ships and their cargo to be sold with their net worth added to the collective pot that would be divided among the crew every year.

Sitting at the local tavern, the word having been out for over a week that I would be recruiting, I had half expected there to be a line waiting for me when I got there. Instead, I got a few stragglers, mostly out of work and broke sailors who looked at sailing with me an alternative to starving. Still, going home that night I was a little dejected at the lack of prospects here and had to remind myself that opportunities abounded here and risking death was usually the last thing people wanted.

“How many?” Megara asked when I got back to our place just outside of town well after sundown.

“Thirty,” I told her as I shed my uniform. “I got just enough people to sail the Wench competently but not enough to fight the English.”

“So you’ll be heading to Saint Martin?” Megara asked me and I nodded.

“With a constant eye for sails and ready to turn tail and run if it looks like it might be Hook,” I said consolingly. “I’ve no mind to throw my life away.”

“I’m sorry,” she said as her shoulders sagged as I hugged her from behind. “I know…”

“Shh,” I said I held her close. “I understand. Really I do.”

“You’ve been such a godsend,” she said as she relaxed into me. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“Raise those eggs into chicks, then on into chickens,” I said, outlining my plan for her. “Maybe breed that cow and raise the calf, hoping you get a cow and not a bull and sell the extra milk for more money. It’s not a glamorous life, but it should help put food on the table if I never return.”

“Why not grow me a farm?” she teased as we stood there in the firelight. “A baby on my hip, cows in the nearby pasture, chickens picking around my feet...”

“Do you really see me in the traces of oxen, tilling earth?” I said as I pictured that was what I wanted for her.

“Well, no...” she admitted. “You belong at sea. You’ve not been yourself since these past few months.”

“Not myself?” I asked her and she nodded.

“You don’t seem...happy,” she admitted to me. “Sometimes I catch you idly watching ships from a window and once for so long your food got cold.”

I hung my head at that, not having realized I was falling into an old pattern. Megara lifted my head and kissed me, and I took her in my arms and held her for a long moment, our kiss long and deep. When we broke apart, the look in her eyes was warm and loving and I had to admit a thought of staying did stir in me, but knew she was right. Having been given my dream, I would never be happy on land and would drive myself and those around me crazy if I tried to stay.

“Shall we go to bed?” I asked her and she smiled.

“Not to sleep, I hope?” she remarked as I started to laugh. Living with Megara was probably the second best dream a man could hope for.


	14. New Additions

25 February, 1660

  
  


The next morning I left with my sailors aboard the Buxom Wench and sailed due west for Saint Martin, a few sailors grumbling about my use of Shang as quartermaster and sailing under the rule of a yellow devil but I dismissed them. I hadn’t made it official, mainly because I knew such grumblings were bound to happen and even Shang seemed hesitant to lead white men over it. Still, drills were ran to train the crew in firing the guns but reloads still seemed to drag far too long which I found irritating.

Still, we pulled into Saint Martin later that evening with a crew that seemed too pooped to party and was content to call it a day. No messenger from the governor appeared to whisk me away and the whole port seemed rather dead to me but long practice in small towns told me there was plenty of life here, they were just waiting with primed guns behind curtains for the other shoe to drop.

Still, I was here for a crew and with night falling knew the time was right for a call on the local tavern. With the ship’s Articles in hand, I wound my way through the unfamiliar port until I found a tavern sign and went inside to find it a warm and inviting place. Two barmaids and a few sailors could be seen as I shut the door, and I approached the older of the two barmaids, a woman about my age with bright red hair.

“Greetings, major,” she said as I approached, and I was glad I had decided to wear my uniform to fend off any who might attack. “Care for a drink, or do you want some of my time?”

“Grog, please,” I told the woman who smiled at me as she turned sultrily and swayed her hips as she walked as if to entice me. She went behind the counter and poured out a measure of grog that she sat on the bar for me before leaning it over to give me a rather good view of her cleavage. “Thank you, madam.”

“Ariel, please,” she said with a soft chuckle as she introduced herself.

“Major Owen Hunt, privateer and owner of the Buxom Wench,” I said as I introduced myself when the other barmaid, a young, almost pre-teen aged girl with raven black hair approached and refilled two mugs with grog.

“Major,” the raven haired youngster said as she sauntered away swaying her hips.

“She’s...” Ariel said as she watched my long stare and I brought my eyes back to her to see her uneasy state. “She’s not quite ready yet.”

“Still an innocent,” I said as an old seventies movie I had once seen came to mind called Pretty Baby. It was definitely a product of its time and featured a twelve year old Brooke Shields as a child prostitute and was the biggest push to criminalize pornography of children. “You’re her mother?”

“Yeah,” Ariel said as she turned to watch the youngster chat with some sailors. “My little Melody. She has her father’s hair.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I figured the wistful look she now had meant he had passed. Ariel bowed her head and nodded, and I figured she, like Megara had once been, was just trying to survive in the world. That she had a youngster didn’t help matters much.

“No family to help?” I asked and Ariel shook her head.

“They...they wouldn’t take me back,” Ariel finally admitted. “I wasn’t supposed to leave, let alone leave with Eric and I fear what they might do to me or Melody if we ever venture back that way again.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again as I looked for an empty table and found several. “I’m here to sign on crew, so if I might have a table?”

“Sure,” Ariel said with a smile. “Take your pick. It’s been a little slow with Hook harassing shipping from the colonies. Some sailors left, but I don’t know how many you might convince to join you.”

“Thank you,” I said as I took my mug of grog and headed to a table by the fireplace and set myself up for a wait. Almost immediately two men approached me, a short and thin one with reddish hair while the other was taller than me and heavier set with dark colored hair.

“Looking for sailors?” the reddish haired man asked me in a conversational tone.

“All I can get,” I admitted. “Care to sign up?”

“I would,” he immediately hedged, “But I got these two friends. They’re...they’re former slaves. Both are good fighters and can take orders, we’re just looking to get out of here and to somewhere better. Maybe back to Africa.”

“That’s fine with me,” I told the pair, really not caring about a person’s skin tone. “I treat everyone the same and they all get the same wages for it.”

“Good,” the reddish haired man said as he took my feathered pen and wrote his name on the articles before his rotund friend did like was.

“I’m Timon, this here’s Pumbaa,” the man said as he introduced themselves.

“Pleased to meet ya,” Pumbaa said as he extended his hand. I shook it, liking the man’s attitude as a friendly sort that matched my own.

“We’ll go get ‘em,” Timon said as he and his buddy turned to go. “Most people have a problem with them being in town so they stay on the outskirts where we set up camp.”

“I’ll be here for hours,” I told him as I looked around at the others in the tavern as the pair left. No other sailors seemed interested at the moment, a few that had been nearby leaving as the night wore on.

It was almost an hour and a half later when the tavern door opened and someone entered. My first thoughts that it might be Timon with his friends was lost as I got a look at the pair and saw their bronze colored skin was too light for an African person. Arabic maybe, considering the one was in loose fitting pants and wore only a vest and a fez with a monkey on his back but it was his companion I was more interested in.

Shorter and more spare, his companion was hidden under a fancy embroidered hooded cloak of sky blue that hid their features. At first thought I placed it as a woman of the Islamic faith, a feeling that strengthened when I saw the woman’s face under the hood and that she, like her male companion, had bronze colored skin. He talked with Ariel for only a moment before heading my way, the woman trailing behind him with her head down.

“I hear you are looking for crew?” he said fluently. “My name is Aladdin and I’m a sailor.”

“All you have to do is sign your name,” I told him as I handed him the feathered pen.

“You provide food, pay?” he asked as he looked the Articles over.

“Food, yes,” I told him as I snuck a glance at the woman who hid under her cloak and said nothing. “You’ll sleep on the ship with the rest of the crew, even in port until either you decide to leave or I end the voyage at the end of the year.”

That sparked a fierce debate between the two in a language I could only guess was Arabic, but it was the fierceness of the woman’s tone that made me take most note. It seemed while she had no problem playing meek and gentle, she would, and could, chew you a new one with just her tongue.

“I sail with you!” she finally spat in English to the man. “I’m not staying behind or going in a crate again!”

“You know how to sail?” I asked her, glad the guy with her was momentarily stunned into silence. The woman pulled back her hood to reveal her face to the room, and more importantly me, as she looked me dead in the eye and responded.

“No, but I’m a fast learner,” she said in a defiant tone as if to dare question her ability.

“Ships are no place for a woman,” the man insisted to her to make her turn an accusatory stare at him. “Your hands will get rough like mine and the men are coarse and vulgar.”

“He is right about the last two,” I told her as I took in what I thought might be her silken attire and it’s obvious fine quality. I didn’t know who she was, but she wasn’t from a poor family. “You’ll be climbing rigging at the very least and your hands will callous and become rough handling the lines. You’ll probably end up with some rope burns as well. Your finery won’t last aboard a ship.”

“I will do what it takes,” she said in a resolute tone as she faced off with me again. “But I am not leaving the man I love after riding in a crate in the belly of a xebec to get here!”

“Sounds like you got spirit enough,” I said as the man signed off on the sheet. He wrote his name in his native language before handing the pen to me. I offered it the woman and she offered a brief smile before signing her own in the same language, then added a single word in English after it.

“I am Aladdin,” the man said as he bowed to me. “My wife...”

“Jasmine,” the woman said as she cut off her apparent husband and introduced herself.

“I’m Major Owen Hunt,” I told the pair. “If you want, you can get a measure to drink and wait for me to complete my business or you can head to the Buxom Wench now.”

“We’ll...wait,” Aladdin said as he looked to Jasmine. The pair shared a look before moving off where Melody took their order. Things seemed to quiet down for a time before Ariel came to sit next to me.

“Did you really sign her on?” she asked me as she looked to Jasmine.

“I did,” I told Ariel as I pointed out Jasmine’s neat scrawl on the Articles.

“You’ll sail with a woman?” Ariel asked me incredulously. “You’re not afraid of bad luck?”

“I don’t believe in that,” I told her and her mouth fell open. “Besides, there are jobs aboard a ship any woman can do that require no real strength.”

“Name four,” Ariel said a bit sarcastically.

“Lookout in the crow’s nest, gun crew captain, cook, cabin boy, powder monkey, helmsman or just a plain old swabbie,” I named off in rapid succession and I could see her get an uncertain look all of a sudden as she turned to look at Melody. When she looked back at me, she still seemed uncertain but, eager maybe?

“She gets a full share?” Ariel asked me and I nodded.

“Same basic job, same basic pay,” I responded. “We’ll likely have to teach her to use a sword so she doesn’t get killed during boarding and can protect herself, but that’s about it. I’ll likely give her a pistol to help with that when I find one.”

“Oh,” Ariel said, her face falling a bit. “Would you be interested in two more?”

“Sure,” I said as I looked Ariel over. She was thin but didn’t seem overly weak and I turned the Articles to face her. “I’m assuming you’re taking Melody with you?”

“Yes,” Ariel said as she signed off with her name. “You want me to sign it for her or have her do it?”

“Be best if she does it,” I said and Ariel called Melody over. When presented with the Articles, Melody made a face.

“But mother,” Melody protested like a typical teen. “First I have to work here all day where you watch me like a hawk now I have to go sailing? I’d rather stay here and work.”

“No!” Ariel hissed at her daughter. “You’ll go where I say until you get married. I’m hoping I can at least get you some money to improve your chances!”

“Mother,” the teen protested but Ariel gave her daughter an intense stare. “Fine.”

“Better,” Ariel said as her daughter signed off on the Articles. “We’ll go get packed. I’m sure we’ll be wanted aboard ship.”

“That’s my intention,” I told her as Ariel stood from her chair and led an angry teen from the room and up the stairs. I almost missed Timon and Pumbaa returning as I downed the last of my grog. In tow with him were indeed two dark skinned Africans, like there were any other types at this point in history, and I had to admit it did look like the pair could fight even if one was a woman. The guy was tall, broad in shoulder and very muscular with no signs of visible fat while his female companion was a head shorter and was lean with taut muscles. Both carried cutlasses and wore their hair short and in some ways seemed more warrior than sailor unlike Timon and Pumbaa who were more sailor than warrior.

“Here they are,” Timon said as he presented the pair then chuckled nervously. “I might have not mentioned...”

“Make your mark,” I told the pair, handing the pen first to the lady to make my intention clear to sign both as they were.

“Oh good,” Timon said as the lady made her mark which was indeed a mark and not a name as she drew a cat. “They really can handle themselves in a fight. I’ve seen it.”

“I’d hate to see what took them down,” I remarked as the man made his mark of what looked like three claw marks.

“My uncle didn’t want the competition,” the man told me, his voice light and almost airy in stark contrast to his body. “He sold me and my intended to the white men so that he could keep my father’s throne and squash the rebellion against him.”

“I’d imagine you want revenge for that,” I replied but the man shook his head.

“Too much water to cross and the bridge is burnt,” he said before looking down at his fiance. “I have what I want though.”

“Yeah,” Timon said nervously as he rubbed at the back of his neck in what might be a nervous tick. “We’ll be outside...”

“I think we’re done here anyway,” I said as I rolled up the Articles as Ariel and Melody came back down the stairs with a seaman’s chest between them. Ariel had also taken a moment to change her clothes into a pair of pants and wore a cutlass at her side, both probably late mementos of her late husband though Ariel hadn’t talked of him while Melody still wore her dress.

“What, you’re signing up everyone?!” Timon exclaimed once Ariel and Melody set the chest down as I stood from the table.

“Madam,” Pumbaa bowed as he saw Jasmine and Aladdin join us as well.

“Gentleman, ladies,” I said to gather everyone’s attention. “This is Jasmine and Aladdin who will also be joining us on this voyage.”

“My dear,” Timon said with a bow while the African pair nodded in respect.

“And these are Ariel and Melody,” I said to introduce the other two women.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Timon said as he tried to act a gentleman. “These two fine specimens of warfare are Simba and Nala from the Kiburi tribe.”

“Let me get that for you, miss,” Simba said as he bent down and picked up the chest with no effort.

“Thank you,” Ariel said with a smile.

“Everyone got what they needed?” I asked as I began to lead the group out of the tavern when a man ran out from the back room as he caught sight of the group.

“I forbid you from leaving!” the man bellowed as he grabbed Melody by the hair.

“Get your hand off my daughter!” Ariel said as she attempted to draw her cutlass but got it locked in the scabbard as she tried to twist and draw against her body. She didn’t need it anyhow as before I even knew what was going on Pumbaa decked the man a heavy fist to leave him dazed and empty handed on the floor.

“That’s no way to treat a lady,” Pumbaa remarked as he stood over the man.

“Ariel...” the man said before gasping as Ariel finally got her cutlass free and pointed its sharp tip at his throat.

“Say it,” she seethed as she stood there, almost shaking from her quiet rage. “You’ve had me for the last time.”

“I, uh, I...” he began to stammer but Ariel pressed the tip to his flesh and he shut up.

“We’re leaving, and if you try to stop me or my daughter from leaving, you pig, I’ll cut what’s most dear to you,” she silently spat, backing away before turning and trying to sheath her cutlass with both hands. Without further word, we filed out of the tavern and headed to the Wench but I could still see Ariel shaking and holding her arms about herself as we walked and I began to put the pieces of her life together in mind and didn’t like the story it told.

Still, when my new crew members saw the ship I owned they let out a few whistles of approval.

“Would you look at that?” Timon said in an awestruck voice.

“Twenty-four guns, Timon,” Pumbaa said in a similar tone.

“Small, fast, nimble,” Timon said nodding his head. “And a deadly broadside for her class.”

“She’s lovely,” Ariel said as we made our way up the ramp.

“A powerful ship,” Simbaa agreed.

“Took it from the English, I did,” I told them as I ran a hand over the railing. “The Buxom Wench, a Royal sloop with twenty-four guns and crew enough to use them.”

“I’d say this job just got a lot more inviting,” Timon said as he ran a hand lovingly over a cannon.

“Grab a hammock and get some sleep,” I told the new arrivals. “Tomorrow we head out.”

The new crew all wearily slogged off for some sleep, but a look to the starless sky overhead told me that tomorrow would be a stormy day and not likely conducive to the best of sailing. I blew out a sigh as I headed for my cabin, deciding already that unless the storm was too severe, I was going to head out and south by south-east and test my new warship out.

It was high time I got back to work.

  
  



	15. Miracle in a Storm

26 February, 1660

  
  


The moment I woke up the next morning and looked out the curtains, I knew I should just layover in Saint Martin. The wind had picked up and the cloud scudded sky kept the light of the sun hidden from the world though it had yet to start raining. After shaving and dressing for the day, I stepped out to find my crew struggling to wake up themselves as they gathered in groups to talk.

Climbing the stairs to the helm, the talk died as everyone noted my presence on the stairs. When I turned back, I saw my new crew was divided into its own group and Shang and his men theirs. I blew out a sigh at seeing it, even as I looked over the ladies of my crew and saw that they had copied Ariel in wearing pants and a linen shirt with mismatched boots, wondering where they had gotten them then remembered that most ships had a slop chest that was full of spare clothes for sailors to wear should theirs be damaged beyond repair.

“Eight bells!” a sailor announced as he flipped the hourglass shaped timepiece and brought it up the poop deck and set it by the wheel. I nodded to him, trying to place his name but came up with squat as the man turned and left.

“Raise the gangplank!” I called and the sailors brought up the wooden plank and began to stow it. “Cast off the lines! Man the sheets! Aladdin! Take Jasmine to the crow’s nests and show her her duties there. Then pitch in yourself where you know how.”

“Aye sir!” the man called with a salute then began to lead Jasmine up the shrouds to the nest at the top of the main mast and highest point on the ship. Jasmine saluted as well, looking unsure as she swung up and onto the rope ladder that also anchored the masts in place. I looked for and found Ariel leading Melody to the fore lines and was glad the redheaded mother knew enough to pitch in without needing a teacher before looking at the penants and judging I had a favorable wind.

“Lower the mainsail!” I called and the canvas sail was lowered to catch the wind. We began to drift away from the dock as I took the helm and steered the Wench to catch more of the wind and take us out to sea, lowering more of the sails until the final gaff sailed was deployed over my head as well.

With the sails deployed and the Wench making good time on our southern course, I handed the wheel off to a sailor and began the process of waiting for something to happen, my eyes going to both Ariel and Melody or up to Jasmine who was no alone in the nest though Aladdin hung around on the top boon adjusting the trim of the sail as needed but the raven haired beauty seemed to have been truthful in that she was a fast learner.

Still, I kept an eye on the clouds as the day wore on, hoping that rain wouldn’t set in but knowing full well that was a possibility. Eventually though, the sea became rougher and the winds rougher to make me douse sail as the masts began to bend, but what happened next was chilling.

“Sail!” Jasmine called, her voice high and carrying well. I grabbed the spyglass and moved forward, following her extended finger to a ship nigh on in front of us. A look through the spyglass told me the ship was on an intercept course, but the black flying above its mast made me lower the glass and glance at my still bending masts.

“Man the starboard cannon!” I called and my crew rushed to pull the cannons back and ready them. I also saw cutlasses being passed out and the eager faces of my crew, but as Shang came to report on the cannons, he saw my fear and knew something was wrong.

“Problem?” he asked as I continued to monitor the approaching ship.

“Pirate,” I told him as I put the spyglass in my pocket. “A very popular and deadly one in this corner of the world.”

“Hook,” he said as he gave name to my fear.

“Yeah, Hook,” I confirmed as I looked up at the sails and the flags to gauge the best course to take. Problem was, I was sailing, at the time anyway, with the wind in the most favorable position of running broad reach which was just a few points off of having the wind directly behind us and that Hook wasn’t running fast at all with most of his own sails lowered in the storm.

“What are we going to do?” Shang asked me as I formed a plan in my mind.

“Load chain-shot,” I told him. “We’ll get one good pass as we go by, maybe damage a mast and make a run for it.”

“Shi,” Shang said as he turned and began shouting for chain-shot to be loaded. The other vessel was coming into clear sight so I scanned looked it over as we readied our guns. It was a brig alright, long and lean with sixteen cannons ran out to meet us on the one side.

“Cannons are ready,” Shang told me as I collapsed the spyglass and pocketed it, the brig coming closer.

“Good,” I told him, then drew a cutlass from a stand. “Ready!”

The crew held their collective breath as I waited for the brig to be in proper position of board and board as Shang gave orders to aim for the mast. I also got my first look at Captain James T. Hook, the man looking every bit as fierce as I predicted he’d be with a large silver hook in place of his right hand as he held it high as he shouted his own commands.

“Fire!” I shouted as I swung my cutlass down. Hook dropped his own hand at the same time and the resulting roar was deafening. Wood and debris filled the air along with shrieks of pain I could barely hear over the ringing in my ears, and I looked at my crew in the lantern light to find many members of my own gun crews crawling on the deck.

“Shit,” I cursed as I knelt by one sailor who had a slice on his arm. I ripped off a piece of his ruined shirt and wrapped the wound before looking at the body next to him. That poor sod had what I initially thought were bullet holes in his head and chest, then I realized it was grapeshot. That fucking motherfucker had fired grapeshot at me!

“Get the wounded below!” I shouted as I watched Hook turn to chase me down. Problem was, with his slow pace, he was slow in getting around and I was able to speed a good distance away before he was able to get back behind me. The walking wounded helped the really bad wounded below and I found out I had five dead, their corpses piled in the bow of the main deck while we dealt with Hook when the rain began to pour and I smiled.

“Douse the lanterns!” I called as I snuffed out the one closest to me. “No lights except in the hold!”

“But why!” Ariel asked as she followed orders and snuffed out the lantern by the helm.

“We’ll turn when we get the lights out and lose them in the rain!” I told her with a smile. “You can barely seem them with their own lights on.”

“Oh!” she said as it lit a light bulb over her. We went to douse the lanterns on the poop deck together, then I had the men in the sheets lower another sail to improve our chances of getting away, but couldn’t risk more as we were going as fast as I dared and making the Wench’s masts bend. Being near the rail as we topped a wave, I saw most of my shiny copper hull come out of the water before we dropped back into the trough behind it as the seas got rougher.

“Man overboard!” I heard being yelled and ran to the other rail to find a man had fallen into the water.

“He was bounced off the rigging,” Ariel said, having apparently seen it happen. “Do we turn back?”

“Can’t,” I said as the man floundered in the water. “Hook’s still too close.”

Ariel seemed to think for a moment, then began undoing her large belt. I wondered what she was doing as she get dropped the belt to the deck, then kicked off her shoes as well before dropping her trousers and underwear to leave her butt bare on the deck. I was too shocked to ask why when she immediately jumped over the rails and into the water. I looked for her to come up, but couldn’t see her red hair anywhere.

A flash of lightning showed me a flash of red in the distance, and as I watched where the drowning man was supposed to be found Ariel had already made it out to him and was bringing him back to the ship with apparently the world’s fastest backstroke. It was all so hard to make out in the darkness that until Ariel got close, I couldn’t tell more than that.

“Get the hooks!” I called as Ariel came alongside the ship as she dragged the sailor along on her stomach. The man was still sputtering water but appeared to be alive as hooks grabbed onto him and lifted him free and up to the deck where the assembled crew dragged him aboard.

If I hadn’t been watching Ariel instead of the sailor I’d have never seen her dip below the water as the man was lifted clear and up to the deck before Ariel jumped clear of the water herself and for one long glorious moment I had the answer to an age old question as I saw the fish-like tail of her lower half as she grabbed onto the ladder and hung there by her arms. Once clear of the water, her tail quickly resolved itself into human legs and she began to climb the ladder up, getting helped by the sailors as I brought her clothes to her and let her get dressed.

“Unnatural that is,” a man said but I glowered at him. “She has to be some kind of demon!”

“Unnatural or not, he’s alive because of it!” I shouted at him as I stepped in front of Ariel as she shimmied her way into her pants. “Leave it at that or I’ll throw you over myself for Hook to have!”

“Sir,” the assembled men said as they shot accusatory glances at Ariel as she straightened herself out, but broke apart with the nearly drowned man being taken below.

“Thank you,” Ariel said as she stood tall and dressed again.

“Why doesn’t the world know you exist?” I asked her as I turned in awe at seeing a real live mermaid. Ariel looked sad for a moment, bowing her head as she looked over the water.

“We don’t live lives above the water,” she finally admitted. “Except for Whitecap Bay, we’re not even supposed to be seen.”

“Why is Whitecap Bay the exception?” I asked her but she seemed hesitant to answer.

“It just is,” she finally told me. “But ever since I found out that when we try our tails out they turn into human legs I’ve been fascinated by life on land. When Eric found me wandering around the beach one day, I decided to stay with him.”

“So, Melody is a mermaid too,” I asked her but she shook her head.

“Her legs won’t change,” she told me. “She can hold her breath for hours but she can’t breathe water like I can.”

“You have fish gills?” I asked her and Ariel nodded.

“They appear on my neck when I’m under,” she told me. “Everything else is the same but the tail and gills.”

“If the men give you problems, come to me,” I told her with a smile. “You’re a treasure to have aboard a ship, especially in a storm.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile as she turned and walked away, some sailors looking at her warily as she joined Melody as we rode out the storm.

Thankfully my idea of turning to angle off from Hook’s pursuing brig worked as the rain fell heavily for hours and obscured my ship from view as Hook sailed on by. I knew I was drifting further west than I wanted, but I had to run the ship with the waves and that meant a westerly course to get away from Hook. Once we were clear and I had all but a few sails dropped to spare the masts, we readied to ride the storm out in the darkness.

It had been a nerve wracking day, to be sure.


	16. Shattered Dream

27 February, 1660

  
  


It was a long and difficult night, the rain pelting us and drenching us thoroughly that I decided to divert the crews attention by readying the recently dead for burial at dawn. I also took a moment to go through the recently injured, most of their wounds relatively minor scrapes that had been bandaged by tying cloth strips around the wound to stifle the flow of blood.

“The storm will blow itself out by morning,” Timon told me after I found him sitting in the top hammock lounging comfortably so I leaned against the post for a talk.

“That’ll be good,” I responded as the ship pitched and rocked as we crested a wave. “How you holding up?”

“Just another night in a storm,” he said casually. “A little wet, but it’s peaceful. You hear the ship groan and creak a little more than normal, but it’s just a storm. It runs out of rain eventually.”

“Good philosophy,” I said as I nodded my head as I looked up at the brightening sky. “Look’s like the storm is passing.”

“Wonder how far off course we are,” Timon remarked as he climbed out of his hammock.

“I’ll probably need a few hours to figure that one out,” I told him as I straightened up as Timon rousted his friend from sleep in the hammock below him.

“Sir,” Pumbaa said as he saluted in his hammock once he saw me standing over him. “I didn’t oversleep did I, sir?”

“You’re good, Pumbaa,” I told him the man who looked ready to shit a break. “I was just down seeing to the wounded. Mostly minor wounds that bleed a lot.”

“Good to know,” Timon said as Pumbaa crawled out of his hammock. “Best thing is to keep your head down during a fight. Less likely to get wounded that way.”

“But Timon!” Pumbaa said affronted. “That’s no way to fight!”

“Fight shmight,” Timon argued with his friend and I left the two to have a friendly argument. “Barreling into fight is the best way to get killed.”

“I disagree,” I heard Pumbaa say as I crawled up the still rain soaked deck to find Jasmine peeling potatoes on a barrel. The Arabic beauty was again dressed with her sky blue cloak over her shoulders and I wondered if it was for warmth or to shed water.

I was almost tempted to move past her when I caught a grunt of pain and what sounded like ‘ouch’ in a heavy accent that made me stop and check on her. She was holding her hand with a fresh cut that was just starting to ooze blood.

“Allow me,” I told her as I took a nearby rag and wrapped it around her hand and cinched tight. With my new view I caught sight of her drenched white shirt that clung to her skin, it’s thinness and drenched state allowing me to see her lady mounds as I held her hand.

“Thank you,” she said as I let go her hand. She caught sight of my eyes and followed it down before realizing what I was looking at and pulled her cloak tight.

“Sorry,” I said as she looked uncomfortable as she grabbed another potato to peel. “Try finding a vest to wear when we take our next ship. It’ll cover your...uh...”

“Alsudur,” she said, the word meaning nothing and likely Arabic. “Again, thank you.”

“Welcome,” I said as I turned away as she continued to skin the potatoes. The sky continued to brighten as the clouds thinned, and I led a solemn funeral for the five dead, my surviving crew gathered and respectful as we buried them at sea.

Once I had the dead buried and my ship on an easterly course, and after consulting the ship’s heading, I was able to determine an approximate position for my ship. It was going to be two days back to Nevis, or so I hoped, and as the day were on we sighted land. Plotting it on the map, I figured we were passing the Virgin Islands which was good as it gave me a point of reference to navigate with, when Melody signaled there was smoke on the island.

I brought out my spyglass to check on the source when I saw the flash of something on the beach that drew my eye. Putting the spyglass to my eye, I saw that there were two men on the beach, one of them with what looked like a mirror that he was using to reflect the light and draw attention.

“Stow the sails!” I called as I shut the spyglass and pocketed it. “Lower a longboat! Volunteers to go and fetch those two men from shore?”

I quickly had eight men file into the longboat and began rowing for the men, who as I watched, began to douse their signal fire and gather their few items to them. When they returned some short time later and the boat was being lifted back aboard, I got my first look at the men and the fine specimen the one was.

Tall, broad shouldered and well muscled, he looked the epitome of a professional wrestler with his wispy blonde hair and blue eyes while his short and stout companion reminded me of the evil clown from Spawn. Both were glad to be rescued and came to shake my hand, the tall one’s grip a vise on my hand.

“Thank you for rescuing us, captain,” the tall one said.

“How’d you come to be marooned?” I asked them pointedly, my hand on a borrowed cutlass. The question had merit because even my own Articles called for a man to be marooned if he were too much of a problem child.

“That cursed pirate Hook sank my ship, the Dreamer’s Delight,” the tall one growled but something nagged at me. I’d heard that name before. “She wasn’t as impressive as yours.”

“The Dreamer’s Delight,” I said as I searched for the memory, then found it. “Your ship, you say?”

“Yes,” the man said as my heart sank.

“My understanding was your ship sank with all hands,” I told the man to make his shoulder’s sag.

“Megara is probably crying her eyes out,” he said as he bowed his head.

“Easy big guy,” the man I took for Phil said as the rotund man cut me a hate filled glare. “Now where did you hear about our ship being sunk?”

“Tavern in Saint Eustatius,” I lied as I wanted to spare the man the pain that was to come even as my heart felt like it was being ripped in half. “Along with other talk about the notorious pirate and his kills.”

“Yeah, that overgrown, pompous ass has it coming,” Phil growled as he looked me over. “You heading back to Saint Eustatius anytime soon?”

“Eventually, yes,” I told the pair which seemed to brighten Hercules mood. “We’re privateers and I was hoping to take some ships before I returned to port to make this trip profitable. So far we’re down five men and have yet to take a ship.”

“Good,” Hercules said as he nodded his head. “We’ll trade passage back to Saint Eustatius in turn for helping out until you decide to make port.”

“Deal,” I said as we shook on it, glad at the former captain’s poor choice of wording. “Until then gentlemen, pitch in.”

I turned and left the pair as I shouted for the sails to be set as we got underway, my mind going back to the movie of the Man in the Iron Mask where King Louis had sent Raoul to the worst fighting imaginable so that he would die and he could court the lad’s fiance. I knew, having already officiated the funerals of five men today alone, that a ship’s battle was a terrible thing and that men died in battle. While I wouldn’t do anything underhanded like stab Hercules in the back during a fight, I did hope that Hercules and Phil would die so that I could keep Megara by my side as she was likely already carrying my child.

Blowing out a sigh, I could only hope I didn’t have to say goodbye to the woman after growing so close.


	17. Taking Ships, Counting Logs

March 12, 1660

  
  


“Sail ho!” Jasmine called from the crow’s nest. I brought my spyglass to my eye and scanned the indicated direction, finding indeed that sails were on the distant horizon and heading south. I looked to my flags for wind direction, finding that like most days lately the wind was due west.

“Helm,” I said to get the attention of the man currently holding the wheel. “Hard-a-larboard and bring us to a south west course.”

“Aye sir,” he said as he began to turn the wheel. My crew cheered, bringing morale up as we began to intercept the vessel, the sixth in the past ten days. We worked our way in closer, and as we did I found it was a French pinnace. She didn’t seem to catch on to our presence until I could make out its flag atop its lone mast, and then tried to make a run for it by turning towards me and better catching the wind.

“Load the port cannon with chain-shot!” I yelled and the crew rushed to load the cannon. “Helm, to starboard. Cut them off and make them steer north.”

“Aye sir,” the man said as he turned us more southerly. I watched as the enemy captain steered north, my own vessel cutting him off from running south as we cut him off and better caught the wind ourselves. Shang shouted his orders to aim for the mast having already figured out my intention from past ship battles. With the ship coming up on a due west charge, the enemy captain likely thought he could just run for it.

“Fire!” I ordered as the ship began to pass. Shang fired each of the guns in order down the line, each shot flying for the passing pinnace that didn’t even try to fire back as it ran for safety. I watched as our shots chewed on the mast and rigging, and as we came about on a hard to port turn, I watched the mast finish breaking under the strain and lay over on top of the now crippled pinnace as my crew cheered.

“All hands, prepare to board!” I called, my crew eager to charge aboard. I watched as my sailors quickly doused the sails as we came up on the enemy ship, Jasmine herself swinging down to land by me from the crow’s nest, looking sexy and svelte in her newly made vest from cloth taken on a previous raid that hid and supported her shapely, and very ample, lady mounds that were no longer hidden under cloak or a loose fitting shirt.

Pumbaa and Simba tied off on the ship with grappling hooks and I led my men aboard the enemy ship with cutlass held high. The enemy crew offered no resistance as we rounded them up, then I got a shock as a man and woman were forced out of the main cabin at sword point by Jasmine.

“Who’s your captain?” the man demanded as Jasmine prodded him forward at sword point. “And stop that! You’re poking holes in my jacket!”

“I’m the captain,” I said as I stepped forward. “Are you the commander of this vessel?”

“I’m Governor Adam Labit of Montserrat,” he stated as he pulled the woman next to him close. “This is my wife, Belle.”

“Governor?” I said as my eyebrows went up. “And what are you doing so far from your port?”

“I was dispatched here by King Louis the fourteenth to see to his interests in the Caribbean,” the man challenged me.

“Now this is an interesting problem,” I told the pair as it hit me I had not only taken an empty ship, but capturas + ed an enemy governor. I then looked around at what crew were available, but the pickings were slim.

“Jasmine, take Governor Labit and his wife aboard the Wench and place them in the brig,” I told the Arabic beauty. “And if they give you any gruff, stick your sword in ‘em.”

“Filthy pirate,” Belle said as she turned to walk towards the gangway placed between our ships.

“Privateer,” I called after them as I turned back to the remaining crew of fifty men where my own crew were lowering a longboat. “Now for you lot.”

“We row for it?” a man asked.

“You could,” I told him as Timon placed a keg of gunpowder by me along with the ship’s Articles brought to me by Melody. “I also give you a chance to join my crew.”

“You deserve to hang!” someone called and the others cheered.

“Fleece ‘em for valuables and toss over,” I told my crew who were all too eager to follow my commands. Each man was singled out and checked for gold or other valuables which were added to a chest I would later count and add to a ledger while valuables would be sold at port then added to the ledger. Basic food for the crew was also taken from captured vessels, especially those that had just left port that had more than salt pork and hardtack, which got old fast.

Once the prisoners were fleeced and released to row for it, my crew then searched the vessel for other valuables which was added to the pile and also the payroll which was the real payday of the vessel. Once we had everything of value, several kegs of gunpowder in the magazine were then punctured and more was spread out as another longboat was readied from the Wench with my best rowers as the sails were again lowered into position from their booms and we cast off. Once clear the gunpowder was lit, usually by Timon, who then quickly joined the longboat of sailors who raced away to leave the ship to blow up and sink, the ship’s logbook all that was left which was added to my collection to present to Governor Fitzherbert.

“Northwest,” I told the helm as the longboat was raised back aboard the Wench. “We head back to Saint Eustatius.”

“Finally!” Hercules said as he helped trim the sails. “Going home!”

I didn’t respond, knowing that though I had taken six vessels since taking him aboard, my own tactics and limited crew required me to be careful in taking vessels which didn’t give fate a chance to allow the man to die. Going down to the berthing deck, I found my two recent prisoners sitting their cell and staring daggers at Jasmine.

“You will pay for this,” Adam growled.

“As a privateer for King Frederick, I am bound by certain rules,” I told the man. “However, if you wish to call me a pirate, I might be persuaded to act like one.”

“Adam,” Belle said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder and seemingly calming him down. “It’s no different than our own privateers.”

“You’re right,” the man sighed, his shoulders slumping. “We were so close to starting our new life together.”

“I know,” the woman said softly. “How long will we be locked in here?”

“We’re returning to port now,” I told the pair, glad they were calming down. “As you are high ranking figures, I will grant you the preference of officers and invite you to my table for evening meals for the next few days.”

“That would be wonderful,” Belle said even as Adam huffed as if he wanted to fight. “We look forward to joining you for dinner.”

“Thank you, my dear,” I told the woman as a thought hit me. “I would also like to extend to you the use of blankets for use as curtains to make your cell more private during your stay.”

“That’s very kind of you,” the woman said with a blush.

“There’s no reason for us to act as barbarians,” I told them as I turned and walked away, setting a few crew with free time to the task. With the blankets hung to turn the cell into a private suite for our captive guests, I then moved back up to the quarterdeck to continue the waiting game, finding Ariel currently had the wheel.

“Any problems?” I asked her as I noted the ship’s heading and began to mark my recent activity into the log.

“Everything is perfect,” she said happily as she shifted the wheel a bit to hold our course on the compass.

“I meant with the crew since the storm,” I said to clarify the question.

“A few angry stares,” she admitted as she gave a shrug. “I think most have an idea, but only you seem to have seen my tail.”

“It does bring up questions,” I mused as I closed the logbook and put it away. Ariel chuckled, and I saw she was smiling as she looked at me.

“You’d be the first one I met that doesn’t think mermaids were monsters that only exist to eat men’s flesh,” she told me. “I haven’t even told Melody everything because I didn’t want to scare her.”

“Which begs the question of what’s different with Melody?” I asked but didn’t expect a question. “I assume mermaids are all women?”

“We are,” Ariel confirmed for me. “And the men we lure to Whitecap Bay are used to father our children, but we don’t...do it...above water; we’re still mermaids when we sleep with them.”

“So I suppose...”

“That we do have our female parts even with the tail,” Ariel told me.

“So, you mind explaining the process to me?” I asked and she chuckled.

“First, we lure sailors to Whitecap Bay,” Ariel told me as she laid it out. “Mostly men come to us willingly, there’s even a lighthouse there. I was told they come in longboats to try and capture us for our beauty, but the stories don’t give credence to that.”

“It is curious,” I admitted to her. “So, a mermaid and a sailor meet in a longboat?”

“I wasn’t old enough to do that part myself before I met Eric and stayed on land, but my understanding the sailor is pulled overboard and kissed,” she told me with a sigh.

“Where your gills give the man air underwater?”

“Right,” Ariel told me. “We take them down to bottom of the bay where it’s sandy and smooth, ripping their pants off and allowing their cannon out so we can slip it inside us.”

“Where you ride a man until he breeds you?” I surmised and she nodded.

“But you...men...pant so much during the act that it hurts us,” Ariel said a little bitterly. “I used to think it was deliberate but Eric...”

“I think I understand,” I said as I nodded my head. “So, you pull away and the man drowns?”

“Sadly,” she said with a sigh. “The mermaid still rides him until he blows his cannon regardless, usually by then the guy is dead.”

“So if a guy didn’t pant and hurt your gills, he’d survive the encounter?” I asked her and she nodded. “So, why eat him afterward?”

“What else do you do with the body?” she remarked and I had to admit the truth in it.

“It would foul your own bay to let it rot,” I agreed with her. “So, I surmise Melody was conceived in your human form?”

“She was,” Ariel told me. “When she was little, I tried to check her by dunking her in the house’s water barrel when she first started walking but her legs stayed human. It was only when I took her to a pond when she was five that I found out she can hold her breath for long periods of time, longer than I can hold mine above water.”

“Like a whale?” I said and Ariel nodded.

“I’ve never understood why wales and dolphins don’t have gills,” Ariel remarked and I chuckled.

“They’re mammals,” I told her and she shot me a questioning look. “Dolphins and whales are mammals, same as humans, dogs, cats and other land animals. Mermaids, it seems, are more like fish, with gills to breathe water itself, something mammals can’t do.”

“Oh,” she said as she got what I was saying.

“Very interesting,” I mused as Ariel thought it over.

“You mind if I ask you a personal question?” she finally said after a long pause in our conversation.

“Sure,” I told her happily.

“Knowing what you now know about me and mermaids,” she said as she delicately phrased her question, “Would you be interested in doing it with me? Underwater?”

“Knowing that panting hurts you and risks my life?” I clarified and she nodded. The question hung heavy on me for a second, thoughts of being faithful to Megara strong in me and the life we would have together almost pushing me to say no until I heard Hercules voice calling out in the rigging and was brought to the reality that Megara was no longer mine to stay faithful to anymore. She had been, was and always will be Hercules’ woman even if she was carrying my child.

“Sure,” I told the mermaid as I let go of the thought of Megara and I growing old together. I didn’t think things were going to work out with Ariel and I, but if I was a free agent I wasn’t going to turn down a free booty call from a beautiful redhead. “Any specific time frame?”

“A few weeks, I think,” Ariel told me, her eyes distant as she thought of something. “I’ll know when it’s time.”

“Let me know,” I said as I sat down with my guitar and began strumming it. I didn’t often play it around others, but the stringed instrument was a beautiful reminder of home and given the time began to play Orinoco Flow on it. Ariel quickly caught the melody and hummed along through its verses and choruses, and I briefly wondered if I might have a life with Ariel but I couldn’t help but feel she wasn’t longing for a man in her life just someone who would take her as the mermaid she was and leave her be.

I guess that was something I had that they didn’t in this age, forward thinking. I did have an openly coed ship after all and it was working well for me. And now, I was a free agent and could sleep with the willing ones?

“Sail ho!” Melody cried from the crow’s nest. Setting the guitar aside I moved to the railing and checked with the spyglass to see that indeed, a sail was on the horizon. Since we were going in the right direction I didn’t need to correct our heading, the other ship growing larger as we ran it down. Eventually it turned to run as it’s English flag became somewhat visible, likely realizing I was Dutch and not a friend as they viewed my own flag and signal.

“Run it down,” I told Ariel who steered us to better catch the wind. With the wind at the back of my Royal sloop, what appeared to be another merchantman fled before us but the large vessel wasn’t built for speed.

“Cannon sir?” Shang asked as we neared the vessel. I could see the panic on the enemy captain’s face as he looked us over and casting his eye upward as if to gauge the wind then realizing he had few choices.

“Load starboard cannon with grapeshot,” I told him as the enemy captain began to shout orders and their cannons were pulled back to be loaded. He likely saw my own small crew and thought he could fire a round or two to fight us off, but I’d fix that line of thinking.

“Ariel, be ready to turn hard to port at my word,” I warned the redhead. “I want to rake her backside without presenting a shot.

“Aye, sir,” she said with a devilish smile as she then steered us more starboard to catch the wind. The enemy captain looked panic stricken as he turned to shout orders to load the other cannon, his face red as we got close enough for a sharpshooter in their rigging to fire and drop a man to the deck of my ship.

“Damn them,” I cursed as I fumed over the loss sailor. More muskets cracked, but the shots appeared to go wide as nothing happened. “Hard over.”

Ariel began turning the wheel, going from the ship’s starboard to it’s port side as we maneuvered for a broadside. The sailors came running back over to prep the port side’s cannon but that was what I wanted. Wide open targets.

“Fire!” I yelled and the boom of my cannons sounded. Their aim was deadly thanks to the constant drilling Shang had put them through and not many of the sailors were left to man the cannon as Shang ordered the cannons to be quickly reloaded

“Load chain-shot!” I ordered and the crews grabbed the chain bound balls and stuffed them in the barrel. “Reef sail and prepare to board!”

Ariel brought us back to firing solution, presenting a perfect target as we fired a second broadside into the merchantman’s three masts, dropping the main over the foremast before both fell to the deck. With our own speed cut prior to the masts dropping, we were then able to pull alongside the slowing ship and grapple on, the wounded sailors already forming along the far railing as they surrendered with further fight.

“Savage attack,” the captain remarked as I walked across the gangplank.

“Maybe you should have struck your colors at being approached by a warship,” I told the captain with all due vitriol before turning to the crew on the railing. “Now, one of you is a good shot.”

All hands pointed to a redhead who limped forward on a bad leg, and I found I knew the lad. A search of the faces turned up the triplets as well, the three looking sheepish as my eye caught sight of them.

“Meredith,” I said as I named the woman who leaned on the capstan to support his weight. “What in bloody name happened to the Saucy Mare?”

“Sank,” he said meekly through almost gritted teeth. “When ye began to sail off I thought ye were going to attack so we sailed off our own selves. Struck a reef in the darkness trying to get to Nevis.”

“That’ll do it,” I said as Timon brought me the standard keg and Jasmine the Articles. Meredith eyed the woman with almost a sneer before hobbling forward towards us.

“Ye sail with women?” he asked me as he came to a stop a few steps away. “Openly?”

“Yes,” I told him as I pointed towards Ariel at the helm then up to Melody in the nest. Nala was just crossing over and joined the growing crowd of my sailors who were ready to fleece this ship of valuables.

“I’ll be,” Meredith finally said. “Ye hear that boys, he sails with women!”

“He’s daft!” one of the triplets called as the three stepped forward to join their brother. “No man openly sails with women.

“What do you call me,” Jasmine said as she lifted a sword towards the triplet in question. “And if it starts with ‘w,’ rules of engagement or not, I will kill you.”

“I was thinking ‘h’ meself,” the kid said as his brothers began laughing but the elder one turned and slapped him.

“That be the one that starts with ‘w,’ ya numpty,” he spat at his younger brother before turning back to me and leaving the insulted youngster with a handprint forming on his cheek.

“Spelling wasn’t their strong suit, was it,” I asked of him.

“You should try growing up with them,” Meredith told me as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave the three lads a bitter look. “I had to break one of their arms to keep them out me room.”

“I wouldna ride her in tae battle,” one of the lads said bitterly as he rubbed his arm.

“If you care to sign on again, sign your name,” I told him, watching as the lad, or lass it seemed, stepped forward and signed on as Merida this time.

“It’ll be good to get out of this bleedin’ wrap,” she said as she hobbled to the side and pointed to the Articles. “Come on ye three. Mother would haunt me till the day I died if I didna keep on eye on ye.”

“And da would haunt us if anything happened to ye,” one of the lads said as they all signed off on it and then grabbed their muskets, one carrying a spare with a broken stock I assumed to be Merida’s as the lady didn’t have one with her.

“How’d you hurt your leg?” I asked Merida as her brothers got under her armpits to support her and move over to the Wench.

“Ye shot the bloody mast out from underneath me!” she said with a laugh. I shook my head at that, the woman not really having seen my new and improved gunnery capabilities as I looked at the crew. “Who else wants to sign on with me instead of rowing for port?”

No one else signed up so the usual fleecing commenced before letting them leave via longboat. The payroll on the ship was sizeable and the ship’s log mentioned having just returned from a run to Port Royale to bring in a load of sugar which brought the captain a sizeable load of coin, all of which was mine now and added to my ship’s ledger and the logbook which was added to the collection I’d turn in to showcase my work.

It was most definitely a good trip.


	18. Breaking My Heart

Breaking My Heart  
March 17, 1660

  
  


Pulling into port days later and another three ledgers heavier, I did as I said I’d do and stood by the helm to be more easily seen while Hercules worked aloft to help bring the ship in faster. As expected Megara was waiting on the pier for me as we pulled in and docked, moving to where the gangplank was to be lowered and holding her belly with both arms while wearing a broad smile. I knew what it meant, but her smile was wiped clean off her face when Hercules swung down to land next to me.

“Hercules!” Megara exclaimed as she caught sight of her husband. Without word or pause she ran to him and threw herself into his arms, large racking sobs shaking her small frame. I bowed my head, knowing then she’d made her choice as Hercules picked the sobbing woman up and carried her down the gangplank. I watched them go, soon feeling a pair of eyes on me as I turned to find Phil staring daggers at me.

“There is no way in Hades she knew we would be on this ship,” he grouched at me. “And the way she was holding her belly tells me she’s pregnant, but not with Hercules’s kid.”

“Guilty on both counts,” I admitted to the pissed off man. “And she didn’t choose me. She went right back to him.”

“You?” the man sputtered. “You had Hercules aboard the entire time knowing who he was?”

“From the moment he said his name,” I told the man sadly. “I also knew that there was no way forward with Megara knowing he was alive so I did the only decent thing I can, return him home and walk away.”

“That’s not so easy,” Phil told me, his voice softening as he began to understand. “Every time you two see each other, you’re going to think of what you had together.”

“Then as soon as the new governor is appointed in Saint Martin, I’ll go there,” I told the man. “I don’t imagine Hercules will continue to sail with me knowing I’d been with his wife.”

“That’s a lot to ask of a man,” Phil agreed. “Still, I wonder if Viola still has that good mead at the tavern.”

“One way to find out,” I told him as I gestured to the gang plank. “Keep them safe, Phil.”

“May you have fair winds and a following sea and long may your big jib draw,” Phil said with a salute as he walked off down the gangplank. That last part of that greeting brought my eyebrows up as I’d never heard it before, but the first part was well known to me. Shaking my head, I put it out of my mind as I turned to the crew and their expectant faces.

“I need two volunteers,” I told the crew who looked suddenly unsure. “These two will help me escort the prisoners to the governor’s mansion before being released to their own conscience.”

“I’ll do it,” Aladdin said as he stepped forward, followed quickly by Jasmine.

“Alright,” I told the pair. “Fetch the governor and his wife, make sure you tie his wrists securely before bringing him out.”

“Aye, sir,” Aladdin said as he and Jasmine made their way below.

“Those with coin can go ashore, but be back by eight bells in the morning or risk being left behind,” I told them to a general cheer. They then filed off the ship in a bunch as I went to my cabin where I donned my uniform coat and got the logbooks from captured and sunk ships before exiting the cabin to find Aladdin and Jasmine with the prisoners in tow waiting for me, heading off together for the governor’s mansion.

The moment I set foot in the house, Simmons took the ledgers from me as he eyed the two prisoners, a smile quirking his lip as he escorted us into the governor’s study. Eugene looked worse for wear with one leg propped up on a divan, said leg encased in a wooden splint and tied securely with rope as if it were broken and being healed.

“Major Hunt,” Eugene said cordially as I bowed to him in respect.

“May I present the French governor, Adam Labit of Montserrat and his wife,” I said as I gestured to my prisoners.

“Governor?” Eugene said as his eyebrows shot up. “You sacked Montserrat?”

“I captured him aboard a pinnace bound to Montserrat,” I told Eugene. “Since we are at war, and the governor an agent of the king...”

“He’s a perfectly valid military target,” Eugene conceded. “Very well done.”

“I also count ten ledgers with him, sire,” Simmons added.

“Ten?” Eugene said as he relaxed into his chair. “You have been busy. Simmons, summon the guard to take Governor Labit and his wife into custody and secure them well. We’ll send word to Montserrat to ransom them back to their government.”

“Aye, my lord,” Simmons said as he left. It didn’t take long for the guards to arrive and take the prisoners and I could release Aladdin and Jasmine to their own devices as well, leaving Eugene and I to talk.

“Ten ships and a governor as well,” Eugene commented as he stood from his chair and hobbled on a crutch to his desk. “That makes you the perfect candidate for a dangerous task.”

“You have something special for me?” I asked him, a knot of worry curling in my stomach.

“King Frederick has decided that the many reports of the dreaded pirate known as Hook be dealt with,” Eugene told me and I suddenly felt like a man who drank bad milk.

“Have the reports included he fields a large brig of war carrying a full sixteen cannon broadside?” I asked him.

“It has,” Eugene conceded. “My best military officers say it would take a frigate to capture such a vessel successfully.”

“Or a fast ship and a company of soldiers,” I countered as I thought of taking the Surprise, now the Buxom Wench. “Say a company of soldiers aboard the Wench and throw caution to the wind.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Eugene told me. “I know you can take a ship and you’ve proven a capable commander, but Hook has made himself a prime target to the king and given me wide latitude in dealing with this threat to our interests.”

“How wide a latitude?” I asked him as thoughts of bounty filled my head. I didn’t have anything to lose but my life, such as it was.

“The ledgers you brought in, plus capturing the governor of Montserrat as well?” Eugene said then smiled. “I can successfully promote you to the rank of colonel on that alone. Bring me proof that Hook has been nullified? I’ll not only promote you to the rank of admiral but grant you five hundred acres of land on my island.”

“A land grant?” I said as I remembered a similar notion mentioned once in a movie. The Patriot with Mel Gibson I believe where General Lord Cornwallis was laying out his land grant from King George. “The startings of making me a lord?”

“It would be,” Eugene conceded, “And the next step of a successful privateer such as yourself. Most privateers I’ve met and dealt with take a ship or three then lose either their nerve or their ship.”

“A company of men,” I mused as I thought it over, especially the use of trained fighters such as soldiers against more sailing aligned mariners who took ships mostly through shock and awe and the use of cannon. A company of men would do well for me if I could but nullify Hook at the beginning.

“Very well, governor,” I said as I forced a smile. “I accept.”

“When do you plan to leave out again?” Eugene asked me.

“On the morrow,” I said as the sound of footsteps entering the room made me turn to find Rapunzel entering with a white baldric for my uniform in her hand

“Simmons said someone was getting promoted today,” she said as she stopped beside me.

“Rapunzel,” Eugene said with a wan smile. “That’d be the newly minted Colonel Hunt, here.”

“Quite the capable commander, are we?” Rapunzel said as she slipped the baldric under my right epaulet to hang from that shoulder and across my chest before fastening it at my hip.

“He’s fielded his share of battles,” Eugene informed her. “More so than many of the king’s own.”

“Well you must come to the ball tonight,” Rapunzel said as she moved to stand beside her husband. “We’ve had to delay the spring gala because Eugene couldn’t stay on his horse.”

“That horse had a mind of its own,” Eugene groused.

“That’s why I love ships,” I told him with a smirk. “They tend to stay underfoot unless, like young Hercules, a powder monkey takes a cannon blast of grapeshot and drops the candle into the gunpowder barrel.”

“That would be speculation,” Eugene countered.

“Confirmed,” I told him. “I rescued Hercules from an island south west of here who informed me of what happened. Thankfully he and most of his crew were blown clear of the ship, some with injuries. Of the survivors, only Hercules and his quarter-master Philoctetes were able to make it to shore that I know of. The rest fell into the clutches of the pirate, Hook.”

“Wait,” Rapunzel said as she looked confused. “If you rescued Hercules does that mean...”

“He and Megara are back together and I have no date for the ball,” I finished for her.

“Oh, you can be my dance partner, then,” Rapunzel said as she seemingly brushed aside the pain of the moment. “My husband here has injured himself and can’t lead the dance.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Eugene countered as Rapunzel gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Well, I better go ready my dress for tonight then,” Rapunzel said as she moved for the door. “I’ll see you tonight, colonel.”

Maybe it was something in the way she moved or maybe it was the way she said colonel, but I suddenly had a feeling she was flirting with me as she sashayed out of the room to parts unknown. It also left me wondering about her intentions, but Eugene seemed to have missed it as I looked at him and saw him with his eyes closed while he rubbed at his temple.

“Where were we?” Eugene asked as he finally opened his eyes. Deciding that if he didn’t mention it was best to let it lie, I moved back to the topic of Hook.

“We were discussing Hook,” I told him.

“Right,” Eugene said dryly. “I’ll have Admiral Bodinson round up a company of men to go with you. I assume you’ll want to pack as many aboard your ship as you can?”

“I do,” I informed him. “Even if I have to pack them in the hold.”

“I’ll have them meet you at your ship early in the morning, then,” Eugene said as he finally looked up. “And don’t worry about my wife. If you want to skip the ball...”

“I just don’t want to seem too forward with another man’s wife,” I informed him. “I know dancing to some is considered an intimate moment...”

“I would say she’s set her mind to dance tonight,” he said with a wan smile. “Either with you or with me.”

“Not on that busted leg,” I regarded him. “Besides, if I don’t play for her tonight I fully expect her to commandeer a ship and hunt me down.”

“She might,” Eugene said with a chuckle. “She talked about your last performance for weeks.”

“Then I’m glad it was enjoyed,” I said as I stepped backwards. “If that’ll be all, governor, I need to make preparations for the morrow.”

“As do I,” Eugene said as I turned and left my head abuzz with thoughts of preparations to be made. First and foremost, I needed to take down Hook fast and dirty to quell his crew’s morale as fast as possible, and at seeing a display in a store window had the mother of all lightbulbs ignite overhead as a pair of dueling pistols caught my eye. I knew from long lessons in history that the smoothbore weapons were largely considered inaccurate in my time, especially at range, but I also knew a few tricks that wouldn’t be developed for nearly two hundred years.

Rushing back to the ship to get my personal funds, I bought the exquisitely detailed pistols and set about making a bullet mold to cast my own bullets. Taking a file and a dowel of wood that was snug in the barrel, I whittled what could be considered the first rifle bullet with a long tip in as close to a thirty-ought-six round as I could, hoping its elongated design would create a good screw effect and keep it on target. Then, going back to lessons learned in grade school, made my on play-dough with flour, lemon juice, salt and vegetable oil gained from the apothecary in which I used my wooden dowel bullet to make a mold before pouring molten led into the cavity where it quickly cooled into a usable bullet. I then loaded a pistol with the new bullet where it shaved a little of the lead off, common on the black powder pistol I had once owned, before taking it up on deck.

Moving to the side of the ship, I then took aim at a passing sea gull and lining up the barrel with the bird much as an archer and his arrow before firing, the sea gull dead from a bullet wound in its chest. A nearby stray dog jumped into the water and fetched the bird, likely for its next meal and brought the bird back to land where it then dined making me smile at seeing the animal feast on the carcass, and I smiled a wicked smile. If I could get close enough to Hook I could end the fight before it began, all I’d have to do is get close enough to use it.

However, with the setting sun I knew I wouldn’t get the chance to do more anymore tonight as I put everything away and cleaned myself up for the ball tonight. Taking a moment, I polished my gorget and boots to better present myself tonight before starting for the mansion, hoping to lose myself for one night in making myself merry, for tomorrow I sailed back towards the Virgin Islands to find Hook.


	19. Stealing a Heart

Chapter 19 – Stealing a Heart  
March 17, 1660

  
  


Entering the party alone, I drifted through the crowd of captains and majors getting many an appreciative nod as I passed. I was also able to sneak up on Rapunzel and Eugene who were conversing with their sons and what I presumed was their dates. The large chested Maximus wore a major’s uniform while his little brother was in a captain’s uniform, their dates clinging onto their arms as if clinging on to the last bottle of water in a long desert trip.

“Ah, Colonel Hunt,” Eugene said as he noticed me standing a bit back. “Might I introduce my sons, Maximus and Pascal along with their dates, Anastasia and Drisella.”

“Ladies,” I said as I bowed in turn to both.

“Another privateer, governor?” an older woman said as she sidled closer.

“Colonel Hunt is going after Hook on the morrow,” Rapunzel said cheerily as if I were merely bringing a friend home.

“A last fling, perhaps?” she said but it felt like salt in an open wound the amount of vitriol I heard in her words.

“For Hook, maybe,” I said giving her a bit of her own vitriol. “I walk bravely where angels fear to tread.”

“There’s reason angels fear to tread near Hook,” she countered. “I’ve lost two husbands and their ships to that foul pirate.”

“May he burn in hell,” one of the young ladies spat.

“I think we should start the ball, dear,” Rapunzel said as she curtailed the fight by redirecting our energies.

“Too right,” Eugene said as he latched on to the one thing he could in the moment and began to clap his hands together. Rapunzel looped her arm in mine and dragged me out to the center of the ballroom floor flanked on either side by her sons and their dates.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Eugene said from the side. “My apologies for the late date of the Spring Gala this year, but as you can see I’m down a leg. My wife, however, will still be leading the dance as always with the help of Colonel Hunt who, at Christmas Eve Ball this past year, played two wonderful piece on the harpsichord and has agreed to do so again tonight.”

I received a large round of applause at that, most of the assembled likely having listened to my last performance as Rapunzel beamed up at me before taking our proper positions. The band began to play some string piece and I followed Rapunzel’s lead as she surreptitiously gave me directions on what to do as Megara had done, but what surprised me next was that she caught my timing was slow and gave me advanced notice of half a beat so that soon we were definitely the couple to watch. I also saw that Maximus’s date Anastasia was prone to tripping over her feet, the poor woman finally falling after a spin and having to be helped up by Maximus who then had to carry his injured date from the floor.

“Very nice,” Rapunzel said as she giggled and sidled closer once the band quit playing. “You are quite the charmer.”

“I aim to please,” I said as I gave her a warm smile. “Once more?”

“Definitely,” Rapunzel said as she took her spot once the crowd had thinned itself some more as those who couldn’t dance left the floor. The band then began to play again, this time the steps more intricate than before but I was able to present myself well with Rapunzel’s help to make the woman giddy as the night wore on.

Eugene disappeared somewhere during the second dance which I attributed to his bad leg but I doubted anyone noticed as most eyes were on Rapunzel and I as we led two more dances into the night. It was only after the fifth dance and we were one of the last couples dancing that the harpsichord was again brought out for me to play.

“Can you play that one piece you started with last time?” Rapunzel asked me specifically as she pressed herself to my back since Eugene still wasn’t around for her to be with.

“Sure,” I said as I again played Pachabel’s Canon in C. At the first notes the crowd fell into captive silence as I again played and allowed the song to build to its crescendo. I had a feeling Rapunzel would be spamming this song on replay if she had but the technology but was content for the moment to listen intently to the song until its final note faded. The crowd again burst into applause and calls for an encore quickly filled the room.

Slightly panicked, I thought for a second for a song to play, then feeling inspired by Rapunzel’s presence and her peck on my cheek, began playing a song from a movie I caught once at Jubitz Truckstop, the only truckstop I knew that had a cinema inside it. The song was Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah using the cover version of the music by Rufus Wainwright to transfer the song from guitars to the keyboard and then after the intro began to sing.

“I've heard there was a secret chord  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do ya?  
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall, the major lift.  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Well, your faith was strong, but you needed proof  
You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya  
She tied you to the kitchen chair  
She broke your throne, she cut your hair  
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain  
But I don't even know your name  
But if I did—well, really—what's it to you?  
There's a blaze of light in every word  
It doesn't matter which you heard  
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much  
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch  
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you  
And even though it all went wrong  
I'll stand before the Lord of Song  
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Well, there was a time when you let me know  
What's really going on below  
But now you never show that to me, do ya?  
But remember when I moved in you  
And the holy dove was moving too  
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above  
But all I've ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya  
It's not a cry that you hear at night  
It's not somebody who's seen the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah”

The song I finally ended up singing was more of a mash between the Cohen’s version and Wainwright’s version, adding the extra verses to the song without pause or problem and even the crowd joined in singing the Hallelujah lines in the chorus with me after the second verse which really elevated the performance but in the silence that followed, before the deafening applause I thought I heard crying.

“Bravo,” Rapunzel said as I finished the song and stood which seemed to be the cue for the party to break up as everyone filed for the exits in high spirits. Being her own home, Rapunzel led me out the back door and into the moonlit night, giggling as she hummed the melody as we walked along.

“You always impress,” Rapunzel said as she led me into the garden whose large hedges blocked the light from the house leaving only the moon overhead to illuminate our path.

“I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise,” I told her as she pressed herself against me and leaned her head onto my chest. We paused for a moment next to a rippling stream where we stopped and she looked up at me, then kissed me. I returned the kiss, looking briefly into her eyes as she pulled away and had a thousand reasons to turn and run.

I knew she was married, that she was slightly off kilter and had three able men who’d kill me for impugning her honor like this. But in the soft moonlight glistening in her eyes, the thought that beat them all back was that on the morrow I sailed to capture a known terrorist and that though the battle would likely be won, I could easily die in the fighting and it wouldn’t matter.

Leaning down, I kissed her again and took her into my arms and lifted her slightly off her feet as I moved to lay her down, Rapunzel offering no resistance as I laid her out on the soft grass growing there. Taking things to the next level, I began to hike her skirt up as we made out, even spreading her legs to allow me room to get between her legs where I then began to relieve her of her undergarments to get to the good part while she undid her top. Soon I had her bare from the waist down and quickly unbuttoned my pants and got my own meaty rod out of its cloth prison where I slid it home inside her moist meat prison.

“Yes,” she panted as I entered her and taking that as a cue began to piston in and out of her tight twat with reckless abandon with my hands on her now free breasts. The only sound of our lovemaking was her panting and the sound of my pistoning in and out of her which quickly brought her to orgasm, but I wasn’t even close.

“On your knees,” I told her and she looked elated at the order as I allowed her up and she got on her knees. She paused for a moment to yank her dress off by pulling it over her head and tossing it aside to leave her fully nude before I pushed her onto all fours. She looked back as I slid myself back inside her slick hole and went deep again as my cock throbbed at being slid back in her tight hole. I began pounding away at her cunt, Rapunzel bowing low as she took my cock and began to pant as she enjoyed the feel of my rod inside her.

With my own cock getting ready to blow its creamy load, I moved my hands from her butt up her back before grabbing her fleshy mounds in my hand, Rapunzel letting out a high moan as I pinched her little nipples. Her spasming hole eventually brought me off where she let out one last high pitched squeal as I shot my load deep inside her belly, holding myself deep in her as she shivered in the slight breeze.

“That was wonderful,” she said finally as I pulled her back to a sitting position by her breasts, my cock still deep inside her. She turned her head to me and I kissed her again, pushing my tongue into her mouth were she quickly did the same. We stayed that way for a long moment before we broke apart and she laid her head on my shoulder as she looked up at the stars.

“We better get cleaned up before Eugene sends the guards after us,” she finally said once my softening rod finally fell out of her hole.

“Eugene?” I said quizzically, my own habit of absorbing the habits and names of people around me throwing me for a moment. “You mean Flynn?”

“Oh,” she said quickly and it dawned on me.

“You’re faking being crazy?”

“Please,” she said as she stood and turned to face me. “He can’t know.”

“Why the hell not?” I demanded as I stood myself, almost ready to charge back to the house and oust her when she turned away and collapsed, her shoulders heaving as she began to sob.

“Do you know what happened?” she finally got out, not even looking back at me as she held herself.

“They hung him,” I told her. “Your fiance, Flynn, he was hung by the pirates. Eugene found you and stabbed the bastard in the back before taking you home.”

“That’s not all of it,” she got out. “There’s so much more.”

“Then tell me,” I asked her, and she turned her tear filled eyes to me.

“Okay.”


	20. The Sad Tale of Rapunzle Corona

1638  
“Rapunzel Corona”

  
  


I sat alone in the nearly bare room they gave me, waiting for Flynn to come. I knew he would, he had to. He loved me. We were betrothed and he had my father’s, the governor of Saint Martin’s, permission to do so. He just couldn’t leave me to these pirates that had kidnapped me from my home.

The sound of my door being unlocked drew my eyes to it. The pirate in charge of that place was a woman, which surprised me. They called her Mother Gothel, as she loved to raise young boys into pirates. She was getting on in her years even then, but she still had hundreds of men who were loyal to her. Men, she had told me when I arrived, who were used to her bringing young women back to use for their ‘pleasure.’

The way she had said that last word had sent chills down my body. I was sure it wasn’t something good, not with the evil way she smiled as she said it, then looked down at my petite body and long golden hair that I was capable of standing on and pulling back up to my chest. As she left, she had locked my door and left me nothing but a barred prison window to look out of, but there was nothing to see but trees. I wouldn’t know when Flynn came until he unlocked that door.

As I sat on the bed, it was my hope that it would be Flynn to come rescue me, but the door swung open to reveal Mother Gothel with one of her young pirate boys behind her. My hopes dashed, I collapsed in on myself as I wondered what she wanted with me.

“Come, Rapunzel,” she said, extending her hand to me. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” I asked her, standing and looping my long golden braid over my shoulder like a baldric to keep it out of the dirt.

“Come and see,” she said, taking my arm and walking me back outside.

I was worried that it might be some gruesome entertainment as the pirates seemed to love torturing and hanging people who crossed them, or so I’d been told as I’d eyed the gallows on my way in. Now as we walked back out the door, I could tell that’s where we were headed as several hundred men seemed to be gathered around those gallows, then one man who was bound with his hands behind him was forced up the stairs to be their ‘entertainment.’

I could still tell that much from where I was, but as Mother Gothel led me closer, I lost sight of the man on the gallows in the sea of taller men and their big hats. It was only as we arrived at the foot of those gallows that any hope that Flynn was coming to rescue me were completely dashed. He was bound, both hand and foot, on the gallows platform as a large graying haired pirate fitted him with a noose.

“It seems you had a caller,” Mother Gothel said, her voice light and cheerful as she gestured to Flynn. “He wasn’t so nice as to announce himself and killed several of my men. Murder is a crime even on the mainland, punishable by hanging.”

“No,” I said, not wanting any of this to be true. Flynn couldn’t be captured. How would I escape? “You can’t do this!”

“I can, and I will,” Mother Gothel said. “I am willing to overlook his crimes and send him on his way but you must give something back.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked her just wanting to go home already. If Flynn was alive, maybe he could come back again.

“Your hand in marriage,” she said cheerily, and my mouth fell open from the shock.

“You want me to marry you?” I asked her as she ran a finger under my chin to close my hanging mouth. I couldn’t believe she wanted me to marry her, it was so wrong.

“Not me, my dear,” Mother Gothel said, then nodded to the graying haired man coming down the gallows steps.

“That honor would be mine,” he said, coming to stand over me as my eyes barely reached the top of his chest and forcing me to look up to him as he loomed large over me.

“No, you can’t,” I said, trying to get past him and up the steps to Flynn. Dozens of arms suddenly grabbed me from behind, and I was pulled back the one step I had taken and held so solidly I could do nothing but dig a hole underneath me. “Let me go!”

“Now, now, Rapunzel,” Mother Gothel cooed, smiling at me as I struggled to get free. “You can’t hope to best three hundred men alone when your betrothed here couldn’t. Now, what shall it be. Shall you watch Flynn Ryder hang, or shall you marry Cecil Clayton?”

I looked back up at Flynn, seeing him gagged there and the horror on his face with that stupid bit of putty still on his nose as he watched. All they had to do was yank that lever, and Flynn would die. “Promise me he goes free,” I breathed, unable to believe the choice I was making but only thinking that if he were alive, he might come back and free me, marriage or not.

“Certainly!” Mother Gothel shouted, as everyone cheered. A pirate behind Mother Gothel handed her a large black book and it was only as she held it out in front of her that I saw it was a Holy Bible. “Now, both of you place your hands on the Bible, no need to be heathens about a thing like marriage.”

I placed my hand on the heavenly tome, fear gripping my heart. Why make us marry on the Bible like this, unless, and then it hit me. It was to make me swear on God’s Holy Word that I would take Clayton for my husband, and swear off Flynn for as long as he lived. Looking up at Flynn, I had no doubt that Clayton would die as soon as Flynn returned, so I had to be his wife only till death parted us. But if I didn’t, the knowledge that Flynn would die kept running through my head. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t.

Clayton placed his hand on top of mine, and Mother Gothel started the marriage ceremony. “Good people, we are gathered here today to join my Quartermaster, Cecil Clayton, to this woman, Rapunzel Corona. Cecil Clayton, do you take Rapunzel Corona to be your wedded wife, foregoing all whores and the plunder of any women we take as slaves, to love and cherish, till the day you gasp your last?”

“I do,” he said, and my heart beat faster. I looked up at Flynn, seeing him squirm and try and break free, but he could barely move his arms.

“Rapunzel Corona,” Mother Gothel continued on, “Do you take this man to be your husband, to love and cherish him, giving yourself only to him and to carry his babies, forsaking all other men for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” I said, feeling as if I was betraying Flynn by saying those two words and saving his life.

“You may now kiss and seal the deal,” she said, and I faced the man I would now call husband and felt a tear in my eye.

Clayton leaned over, taking me in his arms to make me feel small and insignificant, and pressed his lips to mine. I returned the kiss as if I were kissing my father, but Clayton pressed me into him and held me there, his jaw working over mine. When he let me go, I couldn’t help but feel sullied, but he was my husband, I reminded myself. I was his, and I felt a tear run down my cheek at the thought.

“See dear,” Mother Gothel said, as she tossed the holy tome to a man behind her and wrapped me in her arms. “It wasn’t so bad. You’re one of us now. Which leaves your formerly betrothed.”

I turned to see them cut Flynn loose, but only one person was on the platform with him, and his hand was still on the lever that operated the fall gate. “Drop him,” Mother Gothel said coldly and the man gave a yank on the lever.

I could do nothing as the gate dropped out from under Flynn as he fell through into empty space. For a brief moment, I thought it might have been some cruel or sick game and the rope wasn’t secured and this was just for their own sick fun. But the rope jerked taut with a twang, and the noose tightened on Flynn’s neck to make his eyes bulge and gasp for air.

He began to jerk, struggling to free himself, and I could only fall to my knees as he failed. The roar around me as he struggled only intensified as he finally stopped kicking, and I placed my hands over my eyes to block out the horrible sight. He was dead, and I was married to a pirate.

“Why?” I choked out, and I felt a warm light arm around my shoulders.

“He would only have come back again and again and again to rescue you,” Mother Gothel told me, her voice low but easily heard over the loud cheers around us. “You can’t truly belong here as long as you hold out hope for him, and that wouldn’t be fair to your husband now would it?”

“No,” I said, hating to agree with her. I had been hoping he would rescue me, but now?

“Good,” she said cheerily, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “We have a feast prepared and then you can have your wedding night.”

The rest of the day was a pretty much a blur as I was forced to attend my own wedding reception. I just wanted to go to bed, but somehow, the thought of bed squeezed my heart tighter in my grief. I couldn’t eat as I didn’t feel hungry and the drink they gave me tasted bitter in my mouth. Everyone time I looked up, though, all I could see was Flynn hanging from the noose where they’d left him hanging.

Soon, darkness crept over the trees, but the partying showed no sense of dying down. Torches were lit around the clearing, illuminating everything but the torture area clearly. It was the first time I could look up without seeing Flynn, but all I saw now was the path the torches made from our table to a small building, Pirates and women who wore hardly anything at all lined up along the torches, but not a person stood in the path created.

“It’s time, my dear,” Clayton said, taking my arm and slightly lifting me to my feet.

I rose, mostly as I was numb to what was going on, and he led me down the path. Mother Gothel opened the door for us as we got closer, and I could see the bed lit by candlelight inside. Fear turned my gut, and tears stained my cheeks as it dawned on me that I was about to be ‘known’ and start creating life for my husband.

“No,” I whined, and tried to pull away from the man.

“Look boys,” Clayton yelled, yanking my arm to pull me close to him. I spun, trying to get away, but his strong arms wrapped around me, and lifted me off my feet. “She finally wakes up!”

“Think maybe I should help you get her settled down?” Mother Gothel said as I squirmed to get free.

“You can’t do this!” I shouted, my brain finally starting to work even after feeling numb all day. “You killed him! You said he’d go free if I married Clayton and you killed him! This marriage is off!”

“I think maybe you should,” Clayton said, carrying me to the door. I braced my legs against the door frame and he only chuckled as Mother Gothel hit me under my knees with an arm. My knees buckled and Clayton forced me through where he dropped me onto the sandy floor as Mother Gothel closed the door behind her. “She’s going to be a fighter.”

“They all break in time,” Mother Gothel said as she lowered a bar across the door. “Now, you want me to hold her or do you want to do it?”

“You hold her,” he said, reaching down to yank me to my feet. I tried to get away, but my feet only dug into my skirt and I heard the fabric tear. In the moment I needed to get my dress out of the way, Clayton found my arm and pulled me upright, before spinning me to face Mother Gothel who grabbed my wrists, though she held my wrists with her arms crossed.

“You need to face your husband for this,” she whispered, raising her arms and uncrossing hers, which crossed mine and spun me to face my husband, now with my arms above and behind my head with my chest sticking out.

“Been some time since I done this,” Clayton muttered, as he began untying the front of my dress. The knot slid apart, and he began to tug the string free.

“You just need to loosen it,” Mother Gothel said from behind me, a touch of scorn in her voice. “Her neckline is loose enough you can slip it down off her.”

“No,” I whined, as Mother Gothel twisted my arms around so they were now held behind my back. With my dress loosened, Clayton raised his hands and began forcing my dress off my shoulders. I couldn’t help but feel as if it betrayed me, as the fine cloth slid off my shoulders. I gasped as the cool air slid across my skin as my dress was lowered, revealing my body to the man.

“Such pale, pretty skin,” Mother Gothel cooed in my ear as the dress revealed my bosom to the room. I couldn’t help but cry as the string was jerked at again so Clayton could slide the dress over my hips. Eventually though, the dress was slipped to the floor as Mother Gothel let go of my arms and the dress fell , which left me in nothing but my pantalets. The light, material was nothing though, and soon joined my dress on the floor.

“Exquisite, isn’t she?” Clayton asked as Mother Gothel held me now by the shoulders to face my husband. I covered my bare chest with one arm, and used my other to try and cover my lower half, but neither did anything to cover all my exposed skin.

“Quite,” she said, moving behind me. “Come Rapunzel, join me on the bed so your husband can remove his clothes.

I moved dumbly away, backing up and almost tripping over my dress. Mother Gothel pulled my arm and I fell onto the bed where I backed up against the wall, still trying to hide my body.

“Rapunzel, didn’t you ever learn not to wear shoes to bed?” she scolded, then reached down and undone the snaps and tossed my shoes off the bed.

I was truly naked now, and could only watch in horror as Clayton stripped his clothes off in front of me. What drew my attention was the large meat pole that stuck out from his body as he lowered his trousers to the floor. It was so odd, and so large that I couldn’t help but notice it.

Mother Gothel caught my gaze and gave me a light pat on the thigh. “Magnificent, isn’t it?” she said, as Clayton used his hand to rub the thing, making it bigger and stick out more. “You’re so lucky to get a real man on your wedding night.”

The words didn’t sink in until Clayton started to climb on the bed where he reached out and grabbed one of my legs and pulled me away from the wall. I tried to crawl away, but Mother Gothel put a hand on my shoulder and held me, while Clayton started to climb in between my legs. I closed them tight, refusing to open them even though Clayton tried.

“Now, Rapunzel,” Mother Gothel cooed, her hand running down my shoulder and over my breast. “Open your legs for your husband. He has territory to conquer.”

“No,” I told her, feeling her hand move and caress my right nipple.

“Open them,” she said, her light cheery voice darkening. I shook my head, then she began pinching my sensitive nipple. My breath caught as pain flared through my chest, but I held them closed. Soon she relaxed her grip and I caught my breath as she dug her fingernails into my nipple. The pain was a thousand times worse, and I screamed, finally opening my legs to Clayton. He climbed on top of me, spreading my legs with his body as he crawled on top of me, forcing me to look at his chest hair.

Mother Gothel finally let go of my nipple, and Clayton began to fondle my bosom, his meat pole rubbing again the hairy spot between my legs. There was nothing left to do but try to push him off of me, but I no sooner got my arms up to push him off than Mother Gothel grabbed my arms.

When Clayton removed his hands from my bosom, and began to shift over me, I briefly hoped it might be over. I was wrong though, as I felt his meat pole, which was somehow both hard on the inside with a soft outside, press into my hairy area.

“What?” I gasped, as it all felt so unfamiliar and strange. It was wrong, and I wanted it to stop.

“She’s so tight,” Clayton said, then spit into his hand as he adjusted his position on top of me. He used his spit on hand to rub his meat pole, and I took the opportunity to get my arms between us. Mother Gothel grabbed my arms, and twisted them above my head, leaving me defenseless.

“Noo,” I moaned, as Clayton started to press his meat pole back into my hairy place. He pressed it in, and I tried to twist and squirm away as it burrowed its way into me. He was too close, too strong to stop or push away, and I could only howl as he pressed into my being.

With a howl of pain, his meat pole slid inside of me; it’s feeling of burning hot skin completely at odds with my insides. As it burrowed deeper, something inside me suddenly resisted his burrowing. Clayton scooted closer, leaning over the top of me as tears ran down my cheeks. His meat pole hurt my insides and around my hairy place, and there was nothing I could do as he started to pull it back out.

“If she were any tighter,” Clayton grumbled over me, as his meat pole slid in and out of my hairy place, “I couldn’t get it in.”

“Stop,” I panted, finding it hard to breathe as he started to push it in again. I felt it hit my barrier, but Clayton gave a shove with his meat pole that broke it. Pain flooded my hairy spot, so intense that I was forced to scream.

“Hold up,” Mother Gothel said, and Clayton stopped his meat pole from burrowing deeper into my insides. I felt Mother Gothel’s hand as she rubbed her finger around my hairy place, then brought it up to where I could see. It was blood; bright crimson red that I could feel seep out of my hairy place. Clayton had wounded me, and it made me cry.

“Say goodbye to your innocence, young lady,” she said, wiping the blood on my still sore bosom.

“Goodbye,” I breathed as Clayton began to burrow his meat pole deeper into me. Every bit of it was intense pain, and every bolt of pain in my lower area made it harder to breathe.

With Mother Gothel holding my arms above my head, I had nothing to stop Clayton from burrowing his meat pole until he had forced it all into me. When he had, he began to pull it out, making it happen in one motion, then in another forced it back in again. It was what he seemed to want to do, as he began moving it back and forth within me, making my bosoms bounce on my chest with the force of his burrowing in me, each time he seemed to somehow burrow deeper in my being and force the air out of my chest.

Soon, I was panting from his burrowing so deep and fast in me. The pain seemed to lessen as he continued, or maybe I was getting used to dying. It was all too different, the burrowing seemed to be making a path into my being, touching something in my soul as he began to ‘know’ me even though I wanted him out and off me.

I cried; for myself, for my beloved Flynn, for the child I was sure to produce. The longer he seemed to burrow in me the less I could breathe, until with a loud grunt, I felt something burning hot shoot out of his meat pole and into my belly. Clayton held his meat pole deep within me, locking the hot stuff in me and sealing our beings together.

Mother Gothel let go of my hands, as she somehow sensed what had happened. Clayton himself lowered himself to the bed, his meat pole finally sliding out leaving his hot presence behind and an aching sense of loss in my hairy place. Sensing my chance, I got wobbly to my feet and bolted for the door, the pain in my hairy place making it difficult to bring my legs together even as the heat faded in my belly.

“Rapunzel,” Mother Gothel called from the bed as I worked to unlock the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not going to be with him again,” I told her, finally lifting the bar off the door to make it open.

“Oh?” Mother Gothel said as I opened the door, stopping short as I saw the crowd outside. Having forgotten them, it shocked me in into being still. “So you’d rather be a common whore? Well, I’m sure there’s a group of men just outside the door waiting for you.”

There was indeed a group of men just outside the door, seven of them in fact. One of them had his meat pole burrowing in a raven haired young woman in a yellow dress with her blue top pulled open to reveal her bosom. The men didn’t seem to notice me as they cheered their bald little compatriot on, each time he burrowed deeper in her hair place it made her bosom bounce, as Clayton had done me, but she made no sound. As I looked into her eyes she turned her head to look at me, but I saw no hatred there; just a blank stare.

As the man over her made a loud grunt, he got up off her and one of his friends fell to his knees to take the raven haired woman. She made no attempt to close her legs, and if it weren’t for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, I wouldn’t know she was alive. The second man soon began to burrow in her, making her chest bounce as well, and her face was turned back to face her new man as he moved inside her.

I felt sick to my stomach, backing away a step and soon felt Mother Gothel’s warm presence as I backed into her. She wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling my chin even as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.

“Is that what you want?” she asked. “To be taken by man after man, each one stealing the fire from you until you’re like her? She doesn’t enjoy it, not anymore. She’ll lie there, allowing as many men to take her as want her. One day, one man will get her pregnant, and she won’t know whose child she carries. Is that what you want?”

“No,” I sobbed, feeling sorry for the young woman who lay in front of me.

“Then come back to bed,” Mother Gothel said, shutting the door and the horrible scene out. “Clayton will be recovered soon, and you can ask him to be in you again, unless you’d rather be out there.”

“No,” I said, allowing Mother Gothel to turn me back to the bed. I walked back, and crawled back in beside the man who had taken my innocence from me, innocence that stained the sheets red with my own blood.

“Now, what do you say?” she said, as I lay back beside the man who had married me, a man I had put my hand on a Bible and swore to love and cherish. Flynn was dead, his body still hanging from the gallows, and I was the wife of the naked man I lay beside.

“Please, my love,” I said softly, using the words my father often spoke to my mother instead of calling her by name.

Clayton stirred beside me, climbing back on top of me, though this time I spread myself for him. Clayton didn’t spit into his hand this time, and instead slid his meat pole directly into me. I braced myself for the pain I had felt the first time, but instead my body accepted it, welcoming it back as it seemed to feel an aching, missing part of me.

“You’re doing better, my dear,” Clayton said, caressing my cheek with his hand.

“Thank you, my love,” I told him, and he began to burrow his meat pole in and out of my hairy place.

The feelings of it burrowing into my being returned, and instead of fighting it, I allowed it. It still ached to take him deep into my being, but it seemed to lessen with each burrowing of his being. This was my life now, I figured. Cecil Clayton was my husband and would be until he died.

After seeing me take willingly to my new husband, Mother Gothel left us to be alone. After my husband wore himself out breeding me with his child, I fell asleep in his embrace with his seed hot in my belly. It wasn’t until dawn and the light outside making the hut walls glow that I felt Clayton stiffen as if he were waking up and heard him grunt several times before relaxing, turning in the bed though, I got a shock.

“Come on Rapunzel,” Eugene told me as he wiped his knife on the cover I cowered under. “We have to get out of here.”

“My clothes,” I told him, and he looked around and threw me dress. I pulled it on, forgoing anything else as I cinched up the chest while he looked out at the pirates.

“Just...” he said as he peaked in and saw me standing there barefoot and looking ready to bawl my eyes out. “Just stay quiet and follow me.”

I nodded my acceptance as he opened the door and I followed him out the door, the young woman still laying in the sand in the same basic position I had last seen her in though now asleep. I looked for and found what I didn’t want to find, Flynn still hanging from the gallows though my one brief look showed they had disemboweled him sometime in the night. Eugene pulled me along, getting me back into the woods and to the ship before anyone knew we were gone.

  
  


=o=0=o ***Colonel Owen Hunt, March 17, 1660*** =o=0=o=

  
  


“It took us two weeks to get back to Saint Martin,” Rapunzel said as she ended her story. “And I knew I was pregnant with Clayton’s child before I ever set foot on dry land.”

“So you faked being crazy and the part about Flynn Ryder to have Eugene marry you?” I said as I put the last pieces together.

“A woman knows,” Rapunzel said with a smirk. “He might not have ever said as much but since we first met I knew I had caught his eye, he just wasn’t the type of man to court an intended woman. I bullied my father into allowing us to marry just as soon as we got back, but Eugene needed no extra encouragement to take me as his wife. No one ever suspected Maximus wasn’t his and he tends to look like my father, but I see so much of Clayton in him that there’s no doubt about who his father was.”

“Why pretend to stay crazy, though?” I asked her and she looked down at her now straightened clothes having redressed ourselves during her long story.

“So Eugene wouldn’t leave,” she finally said, giving a hiccup of a sob. “I’ve been afraid for so long that he would, but he does take care of me. He gave me another wonderful son not long after Maximus was born, but there are times I can tell he doesn’t want to be around me. His pained looks aren’t hard to miss.”

“Ever think that comes from pretending to be someone he’s not?” I asked her pointedly and wished I had taken proper psychology when I was in college to better help her understand. What good did ‘Marriage and the Family’ do for me when I was such a flop with women? “Eugene told me he once carried on acting like Flynn for you, so that shows me he cares more for you than he lets on. Given that, he probably doesn’t want to endanger you by trying to fracture your world view that he is Flynn but he’s tired of pretending to be someone he isn’t.”

“So what should I do?” she asked me.

“Just call him by his name,” I told her as I finally stood and offered her a hand. “Let him know that maybe somehow, someway, you finally see the truth and let him be who he is. You can at least take that much off his shoulders, even if you never tell him he only has one son.”

“Thank you,” she said as I pulled her to her feet. We embraced briefly before I escorted her back to the mansion, now dark in the waning hours of the night. Thankfully my night vision was excellent and I was able to steer a nearly blinded Rapunzel from the moonlit yard into and through the dark house without problem until we came across Eugene sitting in a chair with a three candle candelabra giving off a soft light in the ballroom, making me wonder if he hadn’t just been sitting due to his bad leg and I hadn’t seen him before we left.

“Rapunzel,” Eugene said as he noticed the brown haired woman entering the room. I hung back in the dark hallway, allowing the two a moment as Eugene struggled out of the chair. I watched the two embrace, then as Eugene caressed her cheek when they broke apart. “I was worried about you. It’s not like you to wander off into the dark.”

“It’s okay, Eugene,” she told him and he wrapped his arms around her. With a tear threatening to make its glistening appearance, I wandered through the mansion and to the door to let the two have their time alone. As the old saying goes, this just wasn’t my rodeo anymore.


	21. Recruiting a Cabin Boy

March 17, 1660

  
  


When I got back to the ship in the dark of the night, I was surprised to see the pier to the Wench under heavy guard. I was even more surprised to see the strawberry blonde woman in what looked like a shredded pink dress with a white slip under it. The closer I got, the more I could see where the dress had been shredded and torn, looking like it had once been a beautiful ball gown before being shredded by a cougar.

The woman herself was young, late teens or early twenties, with well defined limbs that lent themselves to a life of work. I pegged her for either a maid or a hooker, both possible as she could still be one of my sailor’s wives or daughters, or even a sister and didn’t want to embarrass or humiliate her in front of the guards.

“Problem, miss?” I asked her as she stood to address me with a curtsy.

“Are you the commander of this vessel?” she asked as she nodded to the ship.

“I am,” I told her and saw her body relax. “Colonel Owen Hunt. Are you here to see me or are you trying to board the ship to see someone in particular?”

“Cinderella, sir,” the lady said as she curtsied again. “I was in the tavern earlier and I heard you sail openly with women.”

“I do,” I said, looking the woman over again in a new light. In the wan light of nearby lanterns I couldn’t make out any scars on her pretty skin, so decided to take the bull more by the horns with her. “You know how to wield a sword?”

“No,” she said with a wince.

“How to sail?” I then asked her to make her shake her head. “Can you cook food from the ship’s stores for two hundred men?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I can cook some, but mostly for my stepmother and stepsisters.”

“Hmm,” I said as I looked her over and tried to make up my mind. I was getting tired, all of the bravado of the evening finally washing out of me to leave me tired.

“I’ll do anything,” she pleaded as I began to move past the guards who let me pass without a problem but blocked the woman from following me. “Please, just take me with you!”

“Miss,” I said as I turned back to the woman. “Tomorrow I sail after a known and deadly pirate. It may possibly prove lethal to me and many that sail with me should I fail and you’re a poor specimen for warfare and will be taken as plunder. Do you have any idea what they will do to you?”

“I don’t care,” she told me with an almost sob. “It’s my one chance to leave home. My stepmother is probably already looking for me and will drag me back home in chains when she finds me. I’d rather die than go back!”

“Alright,” I said gesturing for the two guards to allow the woman through. “Come with me.”

The woman quickly joined me on the pier as I put my arm around her and walked her up and onto my ship, her sobs of relief almost audible but definitely felt as I guided her to my cabin. She offered no resistance as I led her inside the large stateroom that contained my bed. She even pulled away to begin make the bed at seeing it’s untidy state and was completely oblivious as I picked up the knife and moved up behind her.

“I guess we’re sharing a bed?” she asked as she threw the cover back to straighten out the straw mattress that made up the base of my bed.

“In a way,” I said as I grabbed her by the collar and jerked her upright. She gave a gasp of surprise when I held the knife under her jaw, but otherwise stood stock still from fright.

“Now, if you want this to end, you just say so,” I hissed in her ear. “Of course, if you tell me to stop I’ll throw you off my ship.”

“Wha-wha...” she stammered as I withdrew the knife and, with my hand under the collar of her bodice, guided the knife under the collar to cut through and down the material of her dress and into the skirt. Cinderella stood there shivering from fear as I wrenched her dress free of her body and dropped it to the floor. That she made no sound was a testament to how badly she wanted to be free of her stepmother and family as I tossed the knife onto the desk as I wouldn’t need it anymore.

Seeing her naked form standing in front of me brought my manhood back to life as I stripped out of my uniform jacket and other clothes, Cinderella watching through tear filled eyes as I forced her to kneel then take my hard rod into her mouth and suck on it. It was obviously her first time and had no idea what to do forcing me to shove myself into her throat to gather moisture for what was to come and making her gag in the process. Still, even when I incidentally a forced her into a coughing fit she didn’t ask me to stop as I kept on forcing myself back into her mouth, soon having the desired slickness for the next phase.

Practically lifting her up, I then laid her out on the bed with her legs and butt hanging over the side. Without asking for any permission or giving any warning, I pressed myself to her hairy hole and forced my way inside where she began to shriek and squirm like a fish on a hook. Burying myself inside her, I then went to town as I grew harder from her tightness, but whether or not either of us were getting any pleasure from the experience was secondary to the degradation I found I wanted her to feel. As she panted and squirmed, I slapped one of her pink buds that was sticking up in the cold night air coming in through an open window to make her squeal.

“Want it over?” I challenged her as I slapped her breast again to make her sob. “Just say it.”

When she said nothing as she turned her head to face the wall, I grabbed her by her nose before slapping her on the cheek.

“Don’t turn away,” I warned her as I pounded away on her like a jackhammer. She looked me in the eyes but I knew she couldn’t see me through the tears. “Tell me you like it.”

“I...I like it,” she sobbed as she took the beating as I grabbed her by the breasts and squeezed to make her squeal. She let a sobbing cry but took the abuse, and I found I wanted to take it to another level, one that only certain porn stars seemed to enjoy and the average woman avoided like the plague whether it was done right or not. Just the thought of doing the almost forbidden act pushed me over the edge and made me blow my cannon in her belly.

“On your knees,” I commanded as I pulled out. Cinderella dutifully obeyed even as she sobbed, moving onto her hands as well as I forced her to lean over as I took the dominant position. I rubbed my hard rod against her hole for a moment to tease the tender opening before pulling back and realigning myself to her back entrance with my pink covered rod.

The moment I began to push against the virgin entrance, Cinderella yelped and tried to straighten out, falling flat on her face across the bed. I pinned her down with a hand on her neck, using my other to find the back door entrance and press in, a loud muffled shriek my reward as I pierced into her forbidden hole. Having never done this particular style before, I had no idea what to expect but was enjoying the feeling as I pressed myself into her as she wailed loudly into my mattress.

“Want it to end?” I asked as I pulled her hair back to unmuffle her mouth.

“No,” she sobbed as tears streamed down her face. Shoving her head back into the mattress, I treated her like a slut as I built to a climax, even pulling out and shoving it back in several times and spanking her butt until both cheeks bore the red imprint of my hand but still she never asked me to stop.

After blowing my cannon a second time, I knew I was well and fully spent as the blond woman sobbed on the bed. I picked her up and laid her head on a pillow before covering us both with the cover as I spooned up behind her, the woman almost curling up into a ball as she sensed the abuse was over and she would be allowed to sleep. I figured the woman would be gone in the morning, the abuse of the moment needing that long to settle in and drive her away.

Such it was that in the morning as beating on my door woke me that I was surprised to find the woman still asleep, though now she was turned to face me with her head resting on a numb arm. I looked around to find the sun had already risen, the late night making me oversleep.

“Sir?” a voice called, its muffled quality and my still waking brain needing a moment to identify it as Aladdin.

“I’m awake!” I called as I looked around for a pillow and found it balanced precariously on the edge behind the sleeping woman.

“It’s thirty minutes to eight bells, sir,” the man said neutrally. I wondered briefly if he knew what I had been up to, then put it out of my mind. What happened behind closed doors wasn’t anyone else’s business.

“Thank you, Aladdin,” I said to dismiss the youth as I leaned over the blonde to grab the pillow. I eased my arm out and rested her head on the pillow before rolling out of bed and began to get dressed, the action seemingly waking the woman as well.

“I overslept,” she said sleepily as she looked around the room. She sat up, seeming to have forgotten her nude situation as the cover fell to expose her breasts, my ministrations still a bright red on her creamy skin before she panicked and raised the cover to hide her nudity.

“Morning sunshine,” I told her as she looked fearfully to me. “Ready to sail?”

“You’ll take me with you?” she asked timidly as if she refused to believe it.

“Well, why not?” I asked her as I got dressed. “What worried me most was your lack of experience and I’ve seen too many people do the stupidest things when metal meets flesh. You might not have the bravest mindset, but I give you the worst treatment I could to push that limit and you held on to the hope and idea that if you could just take a little more you could escape home.”

“Thank you,” she said meekly as she scooted to the side to take in her ruined dress.

“I’ll, uh, bring up the slop chest in a second,” I told her as I tucked my tunic in to my pants and donned my jacket, wanting the uniform and station it conferred around the soldiers I would soon be meeting. “That dress wouldn’t last long before it was rags anyway and a pair of pants will help you get around as you swab the deck.”

“Swab?” she asked me curiously. “Anything like washing floors?”

“I imagine they’re about identical,” I said as I stamped my feet into my boots. “It’s also the most basic function on a ship, something you’ll do as well as help whomever’s cooking with food preparations and serving of food.”

“I can handle that,” she said as she seemed to orient herself as I laid out her future. “Where do I sleep?”

“Here,” I told her and she seemed to deflate. “Nothing personal, but I need every hammock filled with a fighting man wherever I can fit one. I can’t risk not having that one man that might turn the tide of battle that’s coming soon.”

“Alright,” she conceded as I straightened myself out in the dirty mirror, then brushed out my hair quickly. I then left her curled up and sitting on the bed as I went down to the berthing deck for the slop chest I’d set out for the ladies to store their smaller clothes, making sure I had the sewing bag of supplies as well before carrying it back to my cabin, Jasmine eyeing me but saying nothing as she and Aladdin conversed in their native Arabic language. I set the chest down in my cabin and shut the door, opening it up to show the contents to her though she didn’t move off the bed.

“Here’s the chest and sewing stuff we have,” I said as I laid it out. “Take what time you need to get the clothes to fit and get dressed, though if I might suggest a vest to support your bosom and protect your modesty should we enter a storm.”

Cinderella nodded absently as she finally moved to examine the contents, and I stepped out to find Jasmine waiting there with crossed arms and an accusatory stare. She glanced briefly past me and to the blonde getting dressed before setting her brown eyes on me though some of the fire left her eyes at seeing the woman going through the clothes.

“Problem?” I asked her and she huffed.

“I was merely wondering what you were doing with our clothes,” she said heatedly. “Who is she?”

“Cabin boy, or girl as the case may be,” I told her as I corrected myself. “She’ll mostly be swabbing the deck and helping cook as she learns to sail.”

“Is that all she’ll be doing?” Jasmine demanded to know. “It didn’t sound that way last night.”

“That was a demonstration of what’s to come and I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t get someone killed when the fighting started,” I countered. “You’ve learned and proven yourself capable in battle, but she hasn’t and where we’re going now I can’t risk our future regardless of what fun I might have with her.”

I could tell Jasmine wanted to argue more, but Aladdin said something in her ear that made them start an argument in their own language, an argument Jasmine apparently lost as she stormed off which made me wonder what her problem was to begin with as she went to the forecastle to sulk.

“Is she going to be alright?” I asked Aladdin who sighed at seeing Jasmine sulk at the fore of the ship.

“She thinks you’re taking advantage of the woman you have in your cabin,” Aladdin told me before touching his brow and adding a quick, “Sir. I told her it wasn’t our business to interfere, that we were merely your servants and had no standing to question your intentions.”

“Well, I imagine I can’t keep the two separate forever,” I admitted as I stared Jasmine’s hatefilled eyes down. “But it seems there’s a lot of hate involved, too.”

“She...” Aladdin said, then turned so he faced me as I stared Jasmine down. “She wasn’t meant to be my wife. Her father, a wealthy sultan, gave her hand to a wealthy merchant in our city, their marriage meant to solidify her family’s standing but she refused. She ran away in the night where we met the next day.”

“I can’t imagine anyone taking such a loss well,” I said as I finally broke off from our staring match to talk with Aladdin.

“Jafar, the man she was supposed to marry, accused her father of deceit and turned to acts of piracy, but he didn’t have the ships to do more than small raids,” Aladdin informed me. “When her father learned of Jafar’s involvement in the raids, he stripped Jafar of his wealth and cursed his name and began to hunt him down. With the sultan’s noose already set and nowhere to go, Jafar fled the familiar coasts in his last ship for here.”

“So how did you and Jasmine get from there to here?” I asked him.

“I signed on as the street rat they considered me and hid Jasmine in what was supposed to be crate of luxury goods Jafar hoped to sell once he made port,” Aladdin said with a harumph. “We jumped ship at Saint Martin about a week before we met you but even though I speak your language people prefer to think of me as a thief and treat me as such.”

“Sadly too many view outsiders the same way,” I mused as a lot of men carrying rifles began marching on the pier and I realized they would be the ones filling out my ship for the upcoming voyage.

“Eight bells,” someone called before ringing the ship’s bell. My sailors assembled to await word of what was to come, and I sighed as Aladdin drifted back to join a still sulking Jasmine. I read off the crew manifest, finding everyone present and accounted for which made me glad no one felt the need to leave as I addressed the crew, some who seemed curious at the many soldiers marching quietly towards us.

“As many seem aware, we will soon have company aboard,” I informed the crew. “I have been given a mission by the governor to sail southwest and apprehend or annihilate the infamous pirate Hook.”

A collective gasp was had at the mention of Hook’s name, but I pressed on.

“I’ve accepted the mission,” I informed them to set them talking among themselves. “The governor has given us the aid of as many soldiers as we can carry to aid us in taking Hook’s brig-of-war a-prize. We take her a-prize, the governor has already agreed to let us have the ship free and clear making us one of the most powerful privateer ships in the area.”

The crew cheered at that when Timon stepped forward.

“Sir, we have plenty of spare hammocks and space in the hold,” he informed me. “Permission to string them all where we can?”

“Granted,” I told him and then Timon gave a wave to everyone to follow him which they did to make as much room as they could. I smiled at that, but the presence of an officer on the gangplank soon drew me.

“Colonel Hunt?” he asked and I nodded as the man introduced himself. “I’m Lieutenant Hans Westergaard here to lead a detachment of the king’s men.”

“Welcome aboard, lieutenant,” I said as I moved to shake his hand. “My men are currently below stringing all our available hammocks.”

“I can imagine why,” he said with a knowing smile. Between what the soldiers had brought and what we carried we managed to field a full hundred and fifty men over my own sailors aboard in addition to my thirty five sailors when we set sail a few hours later as Cinderella finally left my cabin wearing breaches, a tunic and a vest along with a pink sash made from her ruined her ruined dress as I set her to swabbing the deck as Jasmine climbed the rigging to assume her spot as lookout, her face a scowl as she looked at me.

All in all, I could only hope things worked out on this voyage because it was due to be fateful, one way or another.


	22. Target Practice

March 18, 1660

  
  


It was late that day when Jasmine shouted her warning of a sail on the horizon. Per our brief talk, Hans led all his men below to make it look like we were a small understaffed ship and easy prey, but the pretense proved unneeded as we drew closer to find it was a merchantman headed west flying French colors. I almost skipped the ship at seeing its French flag but decided that if nothing else she was good for target practice.

“Port cannon!” I called as we came up on the ship’s right side. My crew scrambled to load the cannon and Cinderella made herself scarce per my orders for her own safety. I then drifted to the hatch where Lieutenant Westergaard waited with his cutlass in hand to update him.

“Hook?” he asked me but I shook my head.

“French merchantman,” I told him and he relaxed, the other soldiers relaxing as well. “I’m going to use it for target practice before we board.”

“Then we shall practice our boarding as well,” Hans proffered with a devilish smile. I caught his line of thinking and nodded in agreement as the cannons were pulled back into loading position.

“Shot sir?” Shang asked and I looked at the ship in the distance. We were just getting into range for the mast and rigging destroying round, and

“Chain shot,” I told him and he turned and shouted orders. The cannons were then loaded and pulled back into position and aimed, each in turn soon fired towards the enemy ship’s masts and dropping the mizzenmast backwards across the helm while the main mast leaned as the shrouds were ripped apart.

“Good shooting, Shang!” I called as the cannons were reloaded, Shang’s constant drilling getting the time down to thirty seconds before they roared again and broke the main mast which fell over the fore to stall out the ship.

“Prepare to board!” I called as Ariel brought us up behind the ship. Hans and his men waited on bated breath for the word as I called down the most recent signal.

“They’re surrendering,” I told the young lieutenant. “We’re still going to board, so you can practice your shock and awe at least.”

“Soldiers!” Hans called to his men as he gave orders to arrest all crew as they were already surrendering. The moment Simba and Pumba threw their boarding hooks, I signaled Hans to charge and he led his men in an overwhelming surge past my men and onto the crippled vessel, rounding everyone and stripping them of weapons so fast it seemed unreal.

As I stepped foot on the captured vessel, a shot rang out below decks and Hans and I made for the stairs down to see what the problem was. More sailors were held by Hans’s soldiers but ten or so were clustered around a door where they were shouting orders to surrender to the people inside.

“Problem?” I asked the young man who held rifle in a ready stance.

“The cooks,” he told me as I noticed the bullet hole in the door. “They refuse to surrender.”

“I got this,” I said as I moved to open the door. Hand on the handle, I opened the door and shouted, “Surrender, we have the vessel!”

“Tu sporco porco non mi prenderai vivo per violare il mio onore!” a woman shouted as I opened the door. I got a brief glimpse of a brown haired woman who threw a knife at me. I scrambled back but found my arm didn’t want to move, the knife catching my sleeve forcing me to yank it free as the brown haired woman wound up to throw a second knife which thunked into the door as well.

“Charming woman,” Hans said as he regarded my sleeve as the woman shouted again.

“Salt of the earth she is not,” I said as I opened the door slightly to peer inside. I could see a man in there with her, likely the cook or her assistant and got a third knife for my troubles.

“How many knives does she have?” Hans said as another thudded into the door.

“Tu sporco porco non mi prenderai vivo per violare il mio onore!” the woman spat as I held the door partly open and fingered my pistol. Sticking the barrel around the corner, I got two more knives buried in the door and a third clattering onto the deck

“Vai e porta con te la tua sporcizia!” the woman shouted as I felt her tear a knife free from the door, which was why I held the door partly open. Giving a shove, I got a feminine oof as I hit the woman with the door as she wrenched another knife free and yanked it back open as the knives clattered to the deck to see her sprawled and grasping for one of the dropped knives. Leading the surge in, I cocked the pistol as I kicked the blade away from her hand, the woman looking up into the barrel of my gun with pure vitriol before more soldiers grabbed her and hauled her to her feet.

“We surrender!” the man said quickly as he stood with his hands above his head. The woman still seemed inclined to struggle but the man approached her and placed a calming hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “Colette, calm down.”

“I suppose it do not matter now,” she said as she sagged in the soldier’s arms as she spoke in heavily accented French, then regarded the fact that her companion wasn’t being held with a cocked eyebrow. “What is this?”

“In the name of King Frederick, I’ve taken your vessel,” I informed her to get a look of confusion on her face.

“You are not pirates?” she asked me.

“Privateer,” I corrected her. “I take enemy ships in the name of my king and now you will row for land though you are many a days rowing away from the nearest French port.”

“Days?” the man asked as he looked terrified.

“They would eat us alive,” Colette added. “What are cooks to them. You see the way they treat us this past month. No matter the succulent dishes we prepare or how well we get the salt out of their meat, we are nothing!”

“I know,” he said sadly as he put his forehead to hers as they had a moment. “It’s Paris all over again.”

“We’ll find a place,” he told her quietly and feeling inspired in the moment decided to interject myself into their private conversation.

“What happened in Paris?” I asked them.

“Not a time to be a Huguenot,” the man said as he looked at me.

“Religous freedom, pah,” the woman said before spitting on the deck. “They rally their troops and gather their strength to squash us!”

“Huguenot,” I said as I heard that term once before, finally placing it. They were a religious group driven out of France about this time in history and settled in and around New York City, a fact I remembered once arriving in New Rochelle with a load of transformers to update the infrastructure and saw it on a statue commemorating town’s founding.

“Well, I agree with you on King Louis gathering his strength,” I told the pair and saw the hatred wash out of Colette. “You’ll all be better off starting anew far from his control and reach.”

“See, he agrees with me,” Colette said as if that settled everything.

“And I can offer you a position on my ship,” I informed her as she seemed to be the dominant of the two. “I have no proper cook and many of our meals lack for it.”

“You would offer the position to me?” Colette asked dubiously. “Why not Linguini? It is about the only reason we get the position is he acts the part of the cook and I a mere helper.”

“Because you seem to be the dominant between you,” I said which raised her eyebrow a bit. “You will find I care not for the fact you are a woman but only that you are capable of doing your job.”

“She’s the best cook I know,” Linguini said as he and Colette shared a look. “I’m barely good at peeling potatoes.”

“He’s not being modest,” Colette said with a chuckle. “He has no talent whatsoever.”

“So, sign on with us?” I offered her. “I’ll make you an officer which entitles you to an extra portion of the our collective plunder at the end of the year.”

“Then I think we have an agreement, monsieur,” Colette said and I gestured for the men to release her.

“Good,” I said as we shook on it. “You can sign the ship’s Articles after we plunder this ship.”

“Oui,” Colette said as she picked up her knives and placed them back in her apron. My men plundered out the ship, the pickings thin aboard the vessel but I had all the ship’s gunpowder and shot taken aboard as well to better prepare for the upcoming fight with Hook.

I then off-loaded the ship of its crew and had them row for it before tossing a few lanterns on the cargo crates and setting the ship ablaze. We stayed to watch it burn, making sure the vessel was well and truly lost before casting off and continuing our course. I then had to search for Cinderella, finally finding the cowering woman in the hold who looked relieved to see me as she lowered the self same knife I had once used to strip her out of her ruined dress.

“Is it over?” she asked and I nodded.

“French ship,” I told her as I extended a hand and helped her to her feet. “We still have Hook to find but this is a taste of what is to come.”

“You’re right,” she said as she pressed against me for comfort. “It was scary to go through that and that was while I was down here.”

“It’s alright now,” I told her as I held her close. “It’s over.”

“Does it get better?” she asked me as she sobbed on my chest.

“You get more used to it,” I told her as I continued to hold her. “Starting to see the reason now I treated you the way I did?”

She just nodded her head as she continued to sob so I picked her up and carried her up through the ship to my cabin, the woman’s weight nothing for me to handle. With night coming on now anyway, I gave orders for the sails to be reefed and a skeleton crew to keep a lookout and sail the ship quietly through the night, the water likely too deep to anchor or have to worry about reefs as we were in the middle of the Caribbean.

Taking Cinderella into my private cabin I set her down on the bed which roused her from her own misery as she took in the room before beginning to undo her vest as I removed my own uniform jacket and examined the ruined sleeve for a moment before hanging it on the back of a chair.

“What happened to your sleeve?” Cinderella asked me as she removed her sash to hang it with her vest.

“Nothing really,” I said as I began removing my boots. “Got it hung up while securing the crew.”

“If you want I can fix it now,” she said as she removed her shoes, something I hadn’t noticed until then. “Or do you want me to wait till in the morning?”

“Uh, morning,” I said as I figured her work would be better and easier in daylight. Cinderella nodded as she kept stripping out of her clothes, hanging her tunic with her vest to leave her bare chested before standing and removing her pants as I slid into bed still mostly dressed as Cinderella joined me completely nude.

“You’re still wearing clothes,” she said as she looked...disappointed? I looked down in confusion for a moment at my clothes before sighing and climbed out of bed.

“Why wear clothes to bed, anyway?” she asked me as I stripped out of my clothes.

“In case of something happening I don’t rush out of here looking like a crazed Celt going into battle,” I said with a snicker. “Though I imagine that would stop a few dead in their tracks to see that.”

“I can see why,” she said as I started to crawl back into bed.

“You seem...amorous...tonight,” I responded as she pressed her naked body against mine.

“I was talking with Jasmine when she came down from the nest and she asked me about last night,” she said as she cuddled in close to me. “She wanted to know why I was screaming.”

“I didn’t think she could hear us,” I told her as I fondled her butt.

“Her hammock is right below us,” she told me. “Plus she has really good hearing.”

“So, what all did she say about last night?” I said as we cuddled. “I assume she told you that it shouldn’t have been so painful?”

“She did,” Cinderella confirmed for me. “She said she looks forward to when her and Aladdin make love because she feels so wonderful during the act itself.”

“I could have made it feel good like that if I wanted, even if it was your first time,” I admitted to her. “But, considering the circumstances, that would have told me nothing.”

“What about now?” she asked me and I smiled.

“A mutually beneficial night?” I asked her, smiling as she shifted to bring her lips to mine. We kissed briefly before she pulled away as I rolled to lie on my back. Cinderella moved down to my hardening cock as she began to suck on it as I instructed her to do. It didn’t take long for me to blow a load in her warm, sucking hole with her tongue wrapped around my hard rod. She ended up spitting most of it back onto my rod before we shifted around, but I had a surprise for the petite woman.

With her legs spread open to give me access, I gave her a smile before lowering my head to her hairy sex and began to eat her out. The moment my tongue touched her sensitive skin she began to moan and pant but I didn’t stop my ministrations to the temple of woman. After several long moments she experienced what I think was her first orgasm where with a shriek, she arched her back as I continued lapping at her being and kept going long enough for her musky scent to fill the room.

After what seemed like her third such orgasm, I finally stopped and sat back on my haunches and had her get on her knees and she numbly followed instruction to flip over and stick her butt back in the air. In the wan light coming from the stern lanterns through the window, I could see the reddish imprints from where I’d spanked her ass the previous night then gave her butt a gentle slap to make her moan.

As I rubbed myself against her sopping wet hole, I found her so wet I had no trouble pushing into her sex where she moaned as she accepted my manhood. Moving slow, I buried myself in her until skin met skin and then began to pump her with long steady strokes so she could feel every ripple and bump of my being in her own. It didn’t take long for her to begin to sing into the straw-filled mattress as she experienced another orgasm but I didn’t stop even as her sex milked and sucked on my rod and held on for awhile longer until she and I finally orgasmed together as I filled her belly with my seed again.

“Wow,” she finally breathed airily afterwards.

“Better?” I asked her and she merely nodded as she dealt with the new feelings as I bent low over her back and massaged her boobs.

“Now...I can see...why she loves...it so much,” she finally got out between gasps. I finally let her lay down after a bit longer as my own overly sensitive rod slipped out and we went back to cuddling on the bed, our own exhaustion winning and putting us to sleep soon after.


	23. Arriving in Neverland

March 18, 1660

  
  


“Land ho!” Jasmine called from the nest. I moved forward and examined the indicated direction to see it was indeed land, most likely the eastern edge of the Virgin Islands. I had the helm steer us south to follow the coast, hoping somewhat that we encountered Hook now where the shoreline would limit his ability to maneuver.

Time passed as we followed the shoreline, the crew cycling to allow those on duty to take a break and eat, Colette’s succulent meals a high point of the day now. Even Cinderella, whom was now called Ella for the sake of simplicity, was really working out as she daily scrubbed the deck with help from other crew as they rotated through the positions.

Swinging down from overhead, Jasmine landed on the main deck and eyed me curiously before turning to go below and eat. The woman’s attitude towards me had grown much warmer in recent days and I’d caught most of the women on board talking and gossiping at one point or another, especially during late evening if I drifted from the helm for any reason.

As the day wore on, it was Jasmine again in the nest that called out a village on the shoreline, my heart skipping a beat that we might be able to cripple Hook’s brig at dock. However, as we passed an outcropping of land that blocked my view from the deck of the ship, something Jasmine could see over from her viewpoint, I found the dock empty of a ship then cast my eyes to the village which was more a collection of crude buildings surrounded by gardens, a large purple flowering plant reminiscent of a sunflower field I saw in Idaho once delivering an oversized load dominating the gardens. The gardens were tended by a gaggle of women who ran as they took in my ship before a single woman in a golden dress came to meet us as I docked the Wench.

“I warn you now, leave this place,” the woman said as I stepped off the dock, my eyes sweeping the town for threats.

“I’m here for the pirate Hook,” I told her as I tried to take an official stance on the issue. “Do you know where he is?”

“He left nigh on a week ago to raid shipping near Saint Martin,” the woman told without a hint of fear in her voice. “I expect him back soon.”

“Good,” I said as I looked the small village over once more. It was primitive, but seemed to be a full town whose residents weren’t in right now except for a bunch of women’s faces peeking out from doors and around corners. “If I may, miss...”

“Clarion,” the woman said as she introduced herself.

“Miss Clarion,” I responded, “You don’t seem concerned about his return.”

“As long as we remain here and don’t try to leave, we have nothing to fear,” she informed me. “Here we have everything we desire and want...now.”

It was something in the way she said now that brought my eyes back to the purple flowered plants. Waist high, thick stalk and familiar…

“Miss Clarion, are those poppy flowers?” I asked as I pointed out the flowering gardens.

“They are,” she said as her eyebrows went up and my heart sank. “You know their use?”

“Opium,” I growled then looked past her shocked expression to the girls beyond. I hadn’t personally seen it used this way, but an author named William W. Johnstone had described it once in a book before he died that opium, when mixed with other certain drugs he didn’t name and probably for good reason, had a tendency to make a person compliant even if it went against their nature to make a moldable human toy.

“You smoke it?” I asked her and she nodded.

“We all do,” she told me. “Some have tried to do without but...”

“You can’t live without it,” I filled in as she struggled for words. Clarion nodded her head and I felt a very violent urge to rip Hook apart with my bare hands.

“A few have tried, but it seems to rip you apart inside if we don’t constantly keep using it,” she told me and I decided to nip that one in the bud.

“Push through the pain and the desire and it’s effect will fade,” I told her and she looked at me sharply. “That I swear to you, that though it’s as addictive as breathing, you can push from it if you so wish though it’s a path through Hell to the backside of Heaven.”

“I wouldn’t know what Heaven looks like anymore,” Clarion told me as she turned away and left, going back to a building where she went inside. A look at the darkening sky made me frown but I turned back to my ship.

“What did she say, sir?” Hans asked as I reboarded the Wench. 

“Hook is due back any day,” I told him to see his face set in grim lines. “He left nigh on a week ago to raid in Saint Martin.”

“Orders?” he asked me and I looked again to the sky. 

“As Merida can affirm, sailing in the dark near shore is a terrible idea,” I told him which relaxed my sailors shoulders somewhat at the idea of staying in for the night. “We’ll stay here for the night and leave at first light, maybe catch Hook on his return in somewhat favorable conditions.”

“Aye sir,” Hans told me as he turned to his men. Looking back to the village I could see the girls flitting between the buildings as they all seemed to be heading to the one Clarion had entered.

“Heave off!” I called to my sailors. “We’ll anchor in the harbor to stave off any attack.”

“But they’re girls,” Hans said with a chuckle.

“Oh really,” I said as I gave him a devilish grin. “Nala!”

“Sir,” she said as she swung down from overhead. I grabbed a soldiers rifle and bayonet and affixed it before passing it to her then pointed at the main mast.

“Treat it like a spear and stick it in the mast,” I told her. She nodded then hurled the heavy javelin into the mast where it stuck deep, getting a whistle from the surrounding soldiers. 

“Good work,” I told her as she eyed Hans wearily.

“If I had a zande I could hit you in the eye from the furthest hut,” she told him before turning back to her duties.

“And I can do the same to ye with me musket,” Merida said as she began climbing as well, her own musket slung on her back.

“Maybe its best to anchor in the harbor,” Hans agreed after swallowing his pride. “But what was that weapon that Nala said she could hurl?”

“Zande,” I repeated for him. “Going off intent and knowledge of her culture, probably some form of spear or javelin.”

“Right,” he said as he watched the sailor retrieve his bayonet from the mast. “Has she done that before?”

“Not on my ship,” I told him as the Wench was cast off and piloted away from the dock. “But she always seemed to be an African warrior first and foremost and even the dullest of warriors can wield a spear.”

“Then why not give her a spear and forego the abuse of musket and bayonet?” Hans asked of me. I gave him a smirk before responding.

“Where’s the shock and awe of that?” I asked him before turning to oversee the moving of the ship. Once anchored in the harbor, I retrieved my guitar and let the crew turn in for the night, but I myself was too wound up to sleep just yet so I began to fingerstyle ‘All I Have To Do Is Dream’ by the Everly Brothers, an old fifties song that I figured would be safe to sing, before playing ‘Sleepwalk’ by Santo and Johnny Farina.

“Sir,” Timon said as he approached as I quieted the last string. “There’s a rowboat approaching.”

“Really?” I said as I set the guitar aside in darkness. 

“I hope you play more,” Ariel said as she joined me at the railing as I brought out my spyglass. “That was lovely to hear.”

“Maybe something more lively next time,” I commented as I looked over the boat. Inside it were a group of girls with no visible men but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, hiding in the darkness.

“Sir?” Hans said as he approached. “Orders?”

“Let it approach,” I said as I lowered the glass. “It’s filled with women.”

“A bumboat, sir?” Hans asked to which I nodded. 

“More than likely,” I said as the boat came closer. I waited by the rail, wanting to get a look at the girls and check for danger before I gave carte blanche to them being aboard.

“Hi,” the first one said as she boarded the Wench. She was a blonde with long wavy hair in a silvery colored dress. “I’m Rani.”

“A pleasure,” I said as I kissed her proffered hand. 

“A gentleman,” she said with a slight blush in the lantern light.

“This is Chloe,” she said as a mousy haired woman climbed aboard in a red dress. A thin and bony blond identified as Ivy was next followed by another brown haired girl named Tabby. A cinnamon haired woman named Scarlett followed, the name suiting her, then a strawberry blond named Sera I pegged for Irish with her accent. Last one up was a petite black haired woman with soft asian features called Sil, but her English was perfect which told me she spent most of her time among native speakers.

“Ladies,” I said once we were all introduced. “I assume you are here to make yourselves merry with the men aboard?” 

“For a price,” Sil told me with a smile, taking charge of the group and her position at the small craft’s rudder telling me she was also the one in charge, even if she weren’t the first aboard. “Miss Clarion gave us leave to sell ourselves to the men aboard.”

“Provided you get leave from the ship’s commander,” I said with a smile of my own that only made Silvermist smile all the friendlier.

“I assume this can be...settled,” she said as she pressed herself against me, her leg raising to rub against my hardening rod.

“Charge my men all you want,” I said as I laid out my terms. “But you are mine to claim, free of charge.”

“Agreed,” she said as we shook on it.

“Welcome aboard the Buxom Wench, ladies,” I said as Sil slid to my side and looped her arm in mine. 

“You girls know what we’re here for,” Sil said, the words getting a whoop from the girls and surrounding soldiers. I led Sil to my cabin where she slipped her dress off her shoulders to pool underfoot, pausing for a moment to let me enjoy the view.

“Such a petite thing you are,” I said as I moved up behind her, kissing her neck as I put my arms around her. She tilted her head and turned slightly so I could kiss her on her lips, getting a gasp before my lips found hers and stifled her moans as my fingers rubbed her hairless mound.

“Not so inexperienced yourself,” she said when our lips separated. 

“I try to satisfy,” I said as she turned in my arms to press her barely existent chest to me.

“But you’re overdressed,” she said as she began to undo my uniform jacket. She undid the buttons and slid the jacket off my shoulders and set it and her own dress aside on a hook. 

S il then quickly helped me undress, putting all my clothes on the wall hook before pulling me to the bed where she pushed me to lay back on the bed. What followed next was the best blowjob I had ever gotten, my hard cannon never leaving her mouth as she sucked it mercilessly until I blew my load in her mouth where she swallowed it, never spilling a drop as she finally pulled her mouth free. 

“Did you enjoy that, sweetie?” she asked as she sat back on her heels.

“Immensely,” I said as I propped myself up on my elbows then reached out and pulled her forward on top of me. She giggled as I rolled over and put her beneath me, spreading her legs to allow my cannon to against her cradle as I situated her on the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked me as I started to slide myself down her front.

“Here,” I said as I put my head between her legs and began eating her out. The moment my tongue touched her feminine bits, she began to buck and moan, her hands grabbing at my hair as I ate her out. I kept going, her thighs wrapped firmly around my head as I continued on, not stopping until I made the petite little thing cum on my face.

“I hope you didn’t wear yourself out,” she said once she caught her breath.

“Which way do you prefer,” I asked her as I positioned myself over her again.

“This way,” she said as she wedged a leg between us and pushed me over. I allowed myself to be flipped where Sil quickly positioned herself over me, her hand guiding my large cannon into her carriage.

“God that thing is huge,” she moaned as I slid inside her tight hole, bucking her hips to settle it into her being as she began to ride me. I put my hands around her waist as I guided her up and down as she bounced merrily away on top of me, her tight hole milking me for all it was worth. It didn’t seem like it took long before I shot my cannon off in her belly where it seemed she pressed it against her womb as I blew shot after shot into her I emptied my personal powder kegs.

“Never knew a woman to accept a man’s seed so readily before,” I said as she laid her head on my chest as she recovered herself. “Aren’t you afraid of getting pregnant?”

“I get paid a hundred gold if I have a son,” she told me as she lay there and I stroked her hair.

“Then why didn’t the others come out as well?” I asked her.

“Clarion wouldn’t let us all go,” she told me as she snuggled in and made herself comfortable as she pulled the cover over us. “I’m just glad I got lucky my name was drawn from the cup tonight.”

“Are you…?” I asked her and she made a small mhmm sound as she lay there. The knowledge that I had just sewn a child in her belly was heady, but I tempered that with the knowledge she was drugged up and forced into this lifestyle and would likely produce a child that was born addicted to opium and probably wouldn’t survive its first year unless it was kept dosed somehow.

My thoughts were rattled when someone began pounding on my door and after seeing Sil and I were covered up, allowed them to enter to find it was Jasmine who opened the door. Behind her were Aladdin, Merida, Ariel and Melody, the four had their hammocks with them over their shoulder.

“Problem?” I asked them as Ella, Colette and Linguini came in as well, the latter two with their hammocks as Ella usually slept with me in my bed.

“Do you know what is going on below?” Jasmine demanded as she came to a stop as she took in Sil on the bed with me and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah,” I drawled as it dawned on me that everyone was sleeping on one deck and the orlop deck in the bottom was full of food with no room to hang a hammock. With six other women aboard and a deck full of soldiers, I had just angered almost every woman aboard as the deck was filled with fornication and no privacy.

“So where are we supposed to sleep!” Jasmine demanded. I looked around the spacious cabin and shrugged.

“Feel free to hang in here,” I told them and Jasmine sighed.

“Are you at least finished?”

“Wilted and defeated,” I said as I acquiesced for the sake of peace aboard the Wench. Hammocks were quickly strung, Jasmine and Aladdin stringing their hammocks over the bed from the rafters with Ariel and Melody beside me and Colette and Linguini on the other side of the bed where there was the most space. Merida strung her hammock over the desk, using my chair to crawl up and in while Ella slid under the cover and stripped down herself.

W ith peace restored aboard the Wench for the night at least, we all went to sleep.


	24. Fateful Meeting

March 19, 1660

  
  


  
  


T he next morning, after Sil and I were allowed to have my cabin back, the petite Asian and I had one last fling  before we got dressed and she went back with the others. Once I was dressed myself, my pistols loaded and cleaned with my new cast bullets,  we cast off and sailed back northeast, the westerly wind forcing me to tack south-east first. I ended up dropping almost all my sails just east of the southeast most point of the island, the Wench facing north to coast along at a snail’s pace.

The day wore on, everyone on high alert and their eyes peeled for any signs of sail when Jasmine’s call of a sail due north made everyone suck wind.  I checked it with my spyglass, but the black flag on top was unmistakable; we had found Captain Hook.

“Full sail!” I called and my crew rushed to get the sails into position. 

“Hook?” Hans said as the soldiers filed below.

“Looks like it,” I said the Wench picked up speed. Hans’s face paled as he turned to shout orders for his men to get out of sight as all the sails were set. As our ships got closer, I could make out the glint of a spyglass being used to view us as well.

“All hands, ready the port guns with grapeshot!” I said as the last top gallant was put into place, looking up into the sheets to see my crew dropping to the deck. “You too, Jasmine!”

The cannons were pulled back and loaded, Jasmine dropping to the deck as she turned to help where she could. Once the cannons were run out, my crew waited as I looked again to Hook whose ship angled more to land.

“Damn him,” I cursed as it occurred to me what he was trying to do. “To port! Prepare to ram him!”

“Aye,” Ariel said as she turned the wheel to steer us closer as I moved to the helm to take direct control there. I didn’t want to present my broadside lest Hook fire chain-shot and drop my masts to leave me helpless, but the closer our ship’s came, the more that seemed to be the case.

“Simba,” I called to get the African man’s attention. “Ready the hooks! Timon! Drop starboard anchor”

Simba nodded, grabbing the grappling hook attached to heavy rope that would link the ship’s together  as Timon rushed for the lever to drop the anchor . Looking the scene over, I knew there was no way to not take a direct hit from Hook’s cannons but I saw my original idea might work better than ever if Hook fired chain-shot the mast and not grapeshot at the crew.

“Take cover and prepare to fire all cannons at once!” I shouted as the other ship’s crew became noticeable. As the Wench came into the cone of fire from Hook’s cannons, Ariel and I hit the deck together as they fired. I had a brief glimpse of double ball and chain flying through the air telling me I had a chance as I forced myself to my knees in time to see Simba throw the heavy hook over the brig’s railing as the other ship nearly sailed right past. The rope jerked taut immediately as the Wench shuddered and pulled hard to starboard.

“FIRE!” I yelled as the brig’s side swung in line with my guns as the enemy crew lost their balance. My cannons roared, their shot ripping enemy sailors apart as I raised a cutlass over head and yelled, “CHARGE!”

With that one word, Hans led his men up out of the berthing deck, over and past my cowering sailors where I joined the melee  as muskets fired and pitched in on the slaughter  making my way to the quarter deck where a voice rang clear. Knowing it had to be Hook, I pulled a gun  as I climbed the steps, finding a man in a large  black jacket  with gold braid  and  a  feathered tricorn hat. I knew it was Hook once I saw the missing hand, his tell-tale signature and leveled my pistol at him and fired, but my aim was poor as it hit him in the shoulder for a grazing shot.

“Bad form, old boy,” he said as he drew his sword from its sheath as I dropped my pistol and readied my blade. “Have you not the courage to face Captain James Hook?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I said as we crossed blades, but it was false bravado. As a large man, easily two hundred fifty pounds of muscle and little fat, I always dominated a fight with sheer presence but Hook matched me pound for pound. Add to that I was now facing a lefty, it threw off everything I knew of fencing and had been able to learn to leave me guessing how to handle myself. 

It started with a few parries and thrusts with no hits as we danced back and forth, Hook’s light rapier  proving more responsive than my own heavy cutlass as we fought it out getting a few slashes on my shoulder s and arms as I tried to survive . So great was my concentration on Hook that I wasn’t even aware of the battle around us until Hook parried my slash then stepped back and raised his weapon to an en garde pose.

“It seems I have been beaten,” he said as I finally noticed I was surrounded by Dutch soldiers, their rifles pointed at Hook who now stood alone. I sheathed my no longer needed sword, Hook doing the same before unsnapping his baldric and sliding it off his shoulder. 

“My sword,” he said as he presented me with the elegant weapon that had scored a dozen times on my shoulders. I took the proffered sword as my crew cheered, Hook stepping back and raising his hands.

“Captain James Hook,” I said and to lend credence to my actions, “By the power of King Frederick I place you under arrest to stand trial in Saint Eustatius for charges of piracy.”

Hook nodded his acceptance, allowing himself and a handful of surviving crew to be taken to Wench and placed into my brig, then looked over my new ship  and its corpse strewn deck. The fight had been bloody and many soldiers lay among the pirates,  the number of dead mind boggling.

“Drop sail!” I called to send the sailors up the shrouds then looked at the brig’s sails. “Both ships. We’ll be here for a bit.”

“Shouldn’t we make for Saint Eustatius, sir?” Hans said as he approached me. 

“In time,” I told him as I thought about Sil back in Neverland. I couldn’t leave them to be forgotten and promised myself to go back for them. “For now, we bury the dead.”

“Sir, prisoners below,” a soldier reported to Hans. 

“Transfer them to the Buxom Wench,” Hans replied to the man.

“I think he means the pirates have prisoners below,” I corrected the lieutenant. “Women, yes?”

“Aye, sir,” the soldier said. “Six of them.”

“Let’s take a look,” I said as I led the way down the stairs. Now that the fighting was over I could look over the ship to find that though it had a forecastle and quarterdeck, underneath was hollow and filled with cannons to allow thirteen cannon per side along her main deck with three more on the forecastle per side for a total of thirty two cannon. 

Going down onto the berthing deck, I found it was more compact in design than the Wench, but with a military touch of bare bones necessity in that the downstairs area was mainly for sleeping. Near the front w as a metal cage where hammocks were slung to each side and the end  to accommodate six . Soldiers had gathered at one where inside two women lounged sleepily as if unaware of the recent battle.

“We believe these are the keys, sir,” a soldier said as he handed me a ring of large metallic keys. I tried them one after the other until the lock clicked open, swinging the door open to nudge a raven haired woman with olive skin.

“Miss,” I said as I tried to wake her. Her eyes fluttered briefly as she gave a vain attempt to push me away. 

“No more,” she breathed, her voice weak as she tried to roll over, failing before passing back out. I tried again to each of the girls, either getting the same response or none at all. All had good pumping hearts as evidenced with a test of the vein at the wrist, so I figured Hook had already dosed them to keep them pacified until they reached Neverland. Figuring they would be out for awhile, I left them in their hammocks and locked them back inside.

“What’s wrong with them?” Hans asked me as he regarded the sleeping ladies. “No way they slept through that battle.”

“They’ve been drugged,” I told him as I looped the keys over my pistol to hold for the time being. “Likely the first step to become like the girls back at Neverland, hopelessly addicted to the drug and trading their souls for more.”

“Drugged?” Hans said aghast. “They seemed so...normal.”

“Aye, now,” I told him as I moved to check some of the other doors nearby. There were some outhouse like rooms next to the cage with chamber pots under the primitive toilet to collect waste and a large storeroom full of food stores that took up the front twenty five feet of ship. A stove sat forward of a pair of tables separated by the bottom of the foremast along with a cabin across from the lavatories for both the cook and their assistant complete with proper beds and not just hammocks. I figured Colette and Linguini would love this room as they were a couple and it would give them privacy.

In the middle of the ship running almost all the way back to the main mast was an open space where the hammocks were strung and a series of picnic-like tables were set up in the center to feed crew at. I counted space for two hundred men, just a few more than I had on the Wench currently before moving  through a door into the aft section where it seemed the officers dwelled. 

In the center of the space was a large table that could seat ten, the large chair at the head of the table looking like a throne. The first door on the port side was a collection of bunk beds set onto the walls for what I thought might be the young officers that would supervise the various departments of the ship. The next two doors to that on the same side were a single officer’s quarters, the bed reminding me of the one I once slept in in my truck a lifetime ago. There were three more such cabins on the starboard side, which left the door just past the stairs leading up to the main deck right in front of the quarterdeck, seemingly reserved for officers due to its location to the quarterdeck and officer’s area. 

The last door led to what I thought it might, the captain’s cabin. It spanned the entire width of the rear of the ship and light was able to filter in through small rectangular windows near the ceiling across the entire back end. The bed itself was huge, able to sleep three wide, and had a feather filled mattress so it would be comfortable. Turning to starboard I found Hook’s private desk and library while on the port side was a wardrobe and large tri-fold mirror along with a changing screen. Since Hook and I seemed to be of the same size, I opened the wardrobe to find a second of his large jackets, this one a vibrant scarlet red also embellished in gold trim along with several changes of clothes and boots.

The rest of the evening passed quietly, the corpses entombed in blankets and buried at sea in a somber ceremony. The girls in the brig had yet to come around which left Hook and the pirates in the brig of the Wench. I also needed to set a crew for it and transfer supplies and assign sleeping quarters, I also needed a name.

“Now that the dead are buried,” I said once the last man had been buried at sea. “The Buxom Wench needs a commander.”

“We’re keeping this ship?” Timon asked me and I nodded. 

“All the trouble to take it?” I told him and saw the crew looking around. “I’m making this ship my new flagship, the Buxom Wench to be sold once we return to Saint Eustatius and the money from the sale added to our growing coffers.”

That got a cheer from my crew to help raise morale as I held up my hands to quiet them down. A vote was held and Timon was made the commander as he was of little use in a fight. Timon then selected his crew of ten to guide the Wench back to port and I left him three fourths of the sailors under Lieutenant Westergaard’s command to guard against Hook or his men getting free. That left me with a couple dozen sailors and the rest of the soldiers as supplies were shifted around and everyone bedded down for the night in the darkness. I also let Ella have her own hammock  now that we had the room, sleeping alone that night and enjoyed the comfortable bed, relaxing at having survived taking a known and terrible pirate.

It had been a great day.


	25. Return to Neverland

March 19, 1660

  
  


The next morning  I was woken by a soldier telling me the female prisoners were awake  and wanting to out , so I began to dress.  A look at my uniform jacket and its many slashes reminded me how close it had been but after studying Hook’s scarlet overcoat,  and trying it on for size  as a temporary replacement , found that I was just a shade larger in size than Hook himself. Still, I liked the coat and a second perusement of Hook’s clothing showed the man shared one of my mental peculiarities, he liked to dress fancy at all times, something I couldn’t do in truck driving because the materials just didn’t survive  the at times extremely rough conditions and forced me to dress in jeans and button up shirts, something you see a lot in cowboys.

Leaving both the scarlet overcoat and uniform jacket behind, I left  the officer’s area to find most of my crew lounging at  or  around the center tables as they enjoyed breakfast which smelled wonderful.  Ella and Linguini were really getting along as they served everyone, and Colette was smiling as she cooked away on the stove, then stopped as I smelled something truly wonderful.

“Bread?” I asked her to get a smile.

“Oui,” she said as she opened the door to the oven. “These pirates have no idea what they have. Leaven? Pah! They let it go to waste.”

“I bet it will be wonderful,” I remarked as I felt my mouth water. Hardtack was like dry Subway flatbread; you could eat it, it would sustain you, but did you really want to?

“Would you expect anything less?” she said with a smile. I left her to her work, having watched her from a distance enough to know that feeding any amount of crew for any time was a difficult task that could easily consume hers, Linguini’s and Ella’s time for the whole day, a task made more arduous in that Colette preferred to treat every meal as a culinary experience and not just making some sort of stock food and do a buffet style dinner.

“Are you the captain,” a honey-skinned woman asked as I approached the bars. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder blouse with an external corset over a purple skirt, she was the only woman up and about.

“Colonel Owen Hunt,” I said as I introduced myself. “Are you ladies well?”

“I got a splitting headache,” she told me as she rubbed at a temple. “You can call me Esmeralda.”

“Anybody got willow bark?” another girl groused from her hammock.

“Sorry,” I said as I gave her a wan smile then stopped myself from adding ‘Tylenol hasn’t been invented yet.’

“So what’s your intent with us, Colonel Hunt?” Esmeralda asked me. Reminded that they were still locked up, I brought out the keys and unlocked the door.

“I’ll return you to port,” I told them as I swung it wide. “You may contact your families and either resume your journey or start new lives in Saint Eustatius.”

“You mean you’ll just set us free?” Esmeralda said as she left the cell quickly, the other girls scrambling hastily to join her as if the door could swing shut and seal their fate.

“Certainly,” I told her as she looked incredulously at me. “I’m a Dutch privateer tasked by the king to end the threat of Captain Hook.”

“I wish you had done that before he attacked our ship,” a young brown haired teen said dourly, her dress similar in style to Esmeralda’s own leading me to believe they had been from the same ship. Esmeralda pulled the youngster into her arms as the gave a hiccup of a sob, a tear forming on the older woman’s face as well.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hanging my head as the last of the girls filed out and I shut the door and locked it.

“We have no family left,” Esmeralda told me. “My husband, her brothers, they were all killed when Hook captured our ship.”

“I faired nae better,” a red haired woman said as she injected herself into the conversation. She was dressed in a simple white dress with a similar lace cover and sash and a large, lacey shawl around her shoulders to remind me of a wedding dress though she was barefoot underneath.

“Were you married?” I asked her but she shrugged.

“I had yet to meet him,” the woman finally said. “I’m Monica O’Dooley, by the way.”

“A pleasure,” I said bowing slightly to her as I gestured to the table where food was already being set down. The other three didn’t seem inclined to talk, so I left them to their misery as they ate.

G oing topside, I soon got the ships underway and heading back to Neverland, taking only a few hours to return with both ships. I was also reminded that the my new brig would be slightly slower than my sloop as Timon had to lower several of the sails so as not to pass me by but figured that if I could get a good round of chain-shot on a fleeing vessel I might be able to slow them enough to capture.

Pulling up to the dock, Clarion and the girls there all seemed to file out and wander down to the shoreline awaiting our arrival, but once they realized it wasn’t Hook and his men it set them all to talking in their own little groups as some pulled out long stem pipes and began smoking.

“I am impressed,” Clarion said as I stepped down the gangplank. “Is he still alive?”

“For now,” I said as I looked over the girls, trying to do a headcount and found there were over forty in total. “He’s got a date with the gallows when I return.”

“I’d love to see that,” she said with a smirk.

“I’m willing to carry all you girls with me,” I offered her, but her smile grew strained as she eyed the girls.

“I’m afraid we can’t,” she told me with a sigh. “The crop…”

“You can live without it,” I told her as I tried to get her to quit. “It’ll hurt, you’ll want to rip your insides out and the pain is worse than childbirth, but it will pass.”

“I hope so,” she said softly as she pulled out a broken piece of a pipe. “I really do.”

“Do I need to stay and help you through it?” I asked her but she shook her head.

“I guess I just needed to be reminded that Heaven still exists,” she finally said as she put the ruined pipe away. “Might I ask a favor?”

“Leave you with as much food as we can spare and return one day?” I proffered and she nodded.

“A month or so, maybe,” she told me as she looked to the fields. “What happens after that...”

“When I get Hook back to Saint Eustatius I’ll be gifted five hundred acres,” I told her and she smiled. “While I have no plans to stay there and will be moving my base of operation to Saint Martin once the new governor is selected, I can at least offer you ladies the chance to survive on the mainland.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?” she said and I couldn’t help the smirk. “I don’t believe anyone has that much good in them.”

“True,” I said, conceding that point. “I was thinking of being your landlord. You can use the land to grow poppies or maybe sugar cane while maybe operating a brothel at the edge of the property so all the girls with you can contribute to their fullest.”

“Now that, sir, I will believe,” Clarion told me with a smile of her own. “Very well, I accept on behalf of all of us.”

We shook on that and with Colette’s supervision the two vessels food stocks were detailed and enough food for three months were left with the girls while giving us a good month of food stocks for each ship. Even though the day was far from over, I decided to lay over the night and let the men enjoy themselves before we returned to port, the Hook and his men protected by the married men and women I carried aboard like Aladdin and Jasmine, Simba and Nala, along with Colette and Linguini who seemed more interested in the peace and quiet as the men aboard left for their own merriment.

I stayed nearby myself, transferring my personal items to the new ship I dubbed the Scarlet Wench as I loved the color and style of Hook’s overcoat and wanted something similar. Once settled, I took my guitar and played songs while watching the merriment unfold in the pirate village, letting my mind wander and plan.

Having the girls willing to leave and come back to port was going to be a plus as I didn’t want to leave them here to be forgotten. While I didn’t like their smoking of opium, their dependence did give me more leverage as they needed land as well when they moved to grow and maintain their own addiction. I wasn’t a doctor by any means, most of my medical knowledge coming from shows like Mash 4077 and House MD, even feeling confident enough to do a tracheotomy if the need arises as it was a relatively simple operation to open the throat up and access the windpipe so a patient can breath.

As far as the six prisoners turned passengers, who I had given leave to use the one room in the officer’s area with all the extra beds to sleep their headaches away in peace, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. Esmeralda and Hilda seemed confident enough to handle themselves come what may, but Monica was a green teenager with no idea how to survive. The other three were still catatonic, moving and functioning on a basic level but as the old saying goes, the lights were on but nobody was home but the maid.

“You play beautifully,” Ariel said as she joined me on the quarter-deck of the bridge where I was positioned to watch the sunset.

“Thank you,” I said as I set the recorder aside where I had been playing My Heart Will Go On made famous by Celine Dion for the movie Titanic. The song itself was simple enough but would sound better on an instrument with better range, in my opinion.

“Care to take a walk?” she asked me with a smile. I rose and offered her an elbow which she took and began to lead her off the ship and down the beach towards the setting sun. Content to bask in the beauty of the moment, the color of the pink sky, the gold of the sun as it neared the water and the sparkling beauty it created, I didn’t realize we were leaving the village far behind until we crested a hill to better see the sun setting and realized we’d covered a good mile already.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ariel asked as we crested the small hill to find more beach and an unobstructed view of the setting sun. From here the sea looked like sparkling diamonds as the sun shone across its surface.

“Oh yes,” I said as Ariel pulled me forward. I felt a pang of dismay at her wanting to leave our vantage point over the beauty, but followed her nonetheless as she led me to the beach where she finally removed her arm from mine. I turned to see her look over the water with a longing smile before glancing down at her attire and began working on removing it.

“Not afraid to get your clothes wet?” she asked me as she pulled her vest off and dropped it on the beach. Taking that as a cue, I began stripping as well as I wondered what was going on, then remembered Ariel was a mermaid as she stripped out of her linen shirt and began to remove her small boots.

Once we were nude she took me by the hand and led me into the surf waiting till the water was to our knees before she dove forward over an incoming wave. Taken momentarily aback, I got to see her nude body transform back into a mermaid as she was covered in water, then dove in behind her. She seemed to sense my hesitation, waiting on me to come alongside where she again took my hand and pulled me further from shore into deeper water until she let go. I floated there in a standing position for a moment before Ariel popped up in front of me, her arms going around me to pull me to her bare chest.

“You can swim,” she said as we floated there.

“Float, rather,” I said as we bobbed in the water. “If left here it’d take me a while to get back to shore.”

“I won’t,” she said with a smile as I placed my arms around her waist.

“I thought you were waiting for something,” I asked as it hit me why she had me out in the water.

“I was,” she said she smiled. “I felt the shift this morning.”

“Whenever your ready,” I said when she leaned in close and kissed me. Our lips pressed together and with her arms around me, she then pulled me under the water with a mere flick of her tail. Knowing her gills would provide me air was a small comfort and gave me a new respect for scuba divers as the glittering surface seemed to fall away as we dove deep to the ocean floor where Ariel laid me out on the sand.

For maybe the first time in my life I felt what it was like to be a woman as Ariel forced my legs apart to settle herself over my body. With our lips locked together and my eyes able to see nothing but Ariel’s own and the ocean’s glittering surface through her red hair, I was forced to go off feel alone for what was happening.

Ariel reached between our bodies where my cannon was already in ready position as if it sensed what was about to happen, guiding it to her entrance. I could feel the scaly exterior of her tail as I was maneuvered into position then through a hole into the warm interior of Ariel’s body. I felt her wince as I slid inside, her breath sucking in as we shared the air provided by her gills and I had the idea that her gills simply pumped air into her airway and she still breathed air in and out like a normal human, but the feel of my cannon stretching her insides brought me back to the moment as Ariel forced my cannon deep inside her.

Once seated, Ariel put her hands on the sandy floor above my shoulders as she began to wriggle her tail. The feeling reminded me of Sil riding my cannon, and with nothing else to do wrapped my legs around Ariel’s scaly tail as she rode me, making sure to regulate my breathing and not pant which was difficult considering Ariel soon began riding me like a stud into battle. As the feeling of climaxing approached, I began holding my breath to keep from hurting Ariel even as she moved her tail faster, water itself beginning to move past us to make it feel like we were in a riptide and she was merely holding us still.

As I got closer to shooting off my cannon, I got the idea that mermaids didn’t climax in the same way, a feeling that solidified when I blew my cannon and Ariel didn’t change her pace at all, her muscles milking my cannon of all its seed and seemingly draining me as well. She didn’t stop moving until I felt completely drained, laying there on top of me shivering with her eyes glossed over in apparent ecstasy as my seed worked its way through her body and fertilizing a new generation of mermaids

With the heavy breathing part over I resumed normal breathing and was almost afraid something was wrong when life flashed back into her eyes. Picking me up and a swish of her tail had us moving again, this time for the surface where we broke water as the last of the sun disappeared and what had to be a trick of the light as I swear the horizon flashed green.

“You made it,” Ariel said with a chuckle.

“That was intense,” I told her as I turned back to look at her. “I thought for a second you had fallen asleep.”

“It’s so different being back in the water,” she told me with a smile. “That feeling of pure joy that fills you as your seed flows into my belly and then, like gunpowder, explodes and overwhelms you. I almost can’t wait to do that again.”

“If you want to dive back down,” I offered and Ariel smiled.

“Are you sure?” she asked me and I nodded my assent. Kissing me again, we dove back under as the light faded and the moon rose, but that green flash of light nagged at me as Ariel pushed me back to the ocean’s floor, but something in the water felt off as Ariel sagged in relief after our second round of love-making, something that made Ariel pull away as she looked up and around for danger before kissing me again and taking me straight to the beach.

“What was that?” I asked her as I picked her up so that her legs would dry off and return.

“Sorry,” she said with a wince. “There was something...”

“Wrong,” I said and she looked at me.

“I’ve never felt such pure hatred,” told me as she placed her head against my chest. “It rings in the sea like poison.”

“Let’s get back to the ship,” I told her as I looked to the horizon but found nothing. “Can’t be too careful.”

Ariel nodded before turning to bend over and grab her clothes and I mine. Once dressed we rushed back to the village but the party was still in full swing, no one else seeming to notice the change in the sea. With a cutlass on my hip and my pistols loaded and ready, I sat the entire night watching and waiting for trouble to find me, afraid that it would as the party continued on, with no one but Ariel and I the wiser.

The question was why.


	26. Prisoner Transport and Delivery

March 25, 1660

  
  


I spent the rest of the night on watch and pacing the rails for any signs of danger. Something had changed, something large and likely magical, but I had no idea what and it freaked Ariel out as well which added to my stress. Still, as I tolled the bell for midnight I refused to stand down my post and kept going, much as I had done many a night driving long haul and began employing a few tricks as I passed the night.

One thing I began to do was plan my future, more importantly, what I was going to do with forty plus women who were, to use a more polite term, working girls. Worse, I had six additional women who seemed to lack in nautical knowledge and would need to stash somewhere that wasn’t my ship. I couldn’t leave them behind now, wanting and needing to get them back to port so they could get on with their lives. I figured I’d likely let them post their letters but keep them with me, letting them work aboard the Scarlet Wench much like Ella to earn their keep until they heard back and then sending them on to their future.

But, as I thought over Monica a thought hit me. She was a poor Irish girl lured to a strange land with the promise of a husband, but what if there was no husband? I didn’t know more about her situation than what she’d told me, but historical cues weren’t kind in this situation, especially given she lacked shoes. If she had a husband, I’d congratulate her and send her on her way but if she didn’t, the only choice she had was to see if her parents could afford to bring her home which again, I doubted they could do.

Standing on the forecastle, I knew there were two choices in her future, maybe three. One, she left to go either to her husband or to home, either way sending her happily on her way to a happier future. Two was bleeker, she had been lied to and I’d be forced to find a niche to fill her into until she managed to find a husband. I really wanted her to be happy, but if all else failed the only thing left would be to lump her in with Clarion’s band and break her of her innocence, something I didn’t want to do or see done.

As the day broke new and bright, I rounded up the crew and bid farewell to the girls as we pulled away from the dock and headed straight for Saint Eustatius. The trip back took longer as the wind wasn’t on our side, but Timon’s ship full of soldiers plodded along dutifully with Hook in the hold. When land came in sight, I donned my newly repaired uniform jacket Ella had repaired and took my post by the helm as Ariel piloted us into port.

As we arrived at dock, there was a full company of soldiers waiting in neat rows, Governor Fitzherbert at the lead. Timon, per my earlier order, had Hook ready to disembark when we docked, and I led the pirate straight to the governor.

“Governor Fitzherbert,” I said as I gestured to a slightly disheveled Hook. “I present to you my prisoner, the infamous pirate James Hook.”

“Well done, Colonel Hunt,” Eugene said as he looked the pirate over. “Admiral Bodinson, take charge of this prisoner and lock him away.”

“Aye sir,” a gray haired admiral said as he stepped forward. Hook was led away with a full company of soldiers trailing behind, the soldiers I had brought disembarking with the rest.

“And these?” Eugene asked me as he looked at the few pirates still alive.

“What remains of his crew after a vicious boarding action, sir,” I told him and Eugene nodded, his eyes going up at seeing my patched jacket.

“Your promotion and bounty is well earned,” Eugene told me as he looked at the brig of war. “And a proper ship for such a warrior as yourself.”

“Thank you, governor,” I told him as he turned back to me. “I assume Hook will be given trial soon?”

“He’ll be hanged on the morrow,” Eugene told me as he turned and began to limp back to his carriage. I followed along to continue our conversation, wanting to learn a few particulars. “His trial was held in absentia so his guilt is already determined. All that’s left is a long drop with a sudden stop.”

“For him, it’s well earned,” I told him simply, not wanting to get into his abduction of women for personal pleasure. “Has there been any word on the new governor?”

“There has,” Eugene told me as he stopped by his carriage. “Mayor Agnarr Arendelle has been selected to be the new governor. I’ll assume you’ll want to stay for the hanging, then I’ll have you leave to retrieve the governor and take him and his family to Saint Martin.”

“Aye, governor,” I told him, accepting his mission.

“I suppose you’ll also wanting to sell the Buxom Wench to consolidate your fleet?” he said as he eye fell to the Royal Sloop. “I can’t imagine you wanting to sell a powerful warship.”

“Aye, governor, I do,” I said with a smile as I looked at the Buxom Wench. “She’s a fine ship and any man would be proud to captain her, but you are right. The Scarlet Wench is a powerful warship, one I intend to use much to our enemies dismay.”

“Then you’ll be glad to receive my offer of five hundred gold for it,” he offered and I felt my heart skip. It was definitely a sum for a single ship.

“Then it’s a deal,” I said as Eugene and I shook hands.

“And be at the mansion tonight about seven,” Eugene said as he climbed into his carriage. “My wife expects you for dinner.”

“As she wishes,” I said as the carriage pulled away and I returned to the ships, Timon and the others already transferring their personal chests to the brig.

“Timon, a word,” I called to stop the spare man from disappearing into the berthing deck. Timon set his chest down and waited as I approached.

“Sir,” he said as he offered a salute.

“As an officer of the Wench you may claim a room at the stern if you so wish,” I offered the man. He smiled, sighing as he looked at Pumbaa who was slowly making his way down the stairs.

“If it’s alright, sir, I’ll bunk with the sailors still,” he countered. “Pumbaa has been a long time friend and I...I don’t want to leave him.”

“Officer’s choice,” I said as we shook hands. “The private cabin is ever open.”

“Thank you sir,” Timon said as he picked up his chest and made his way below.

I spent the next hour transferring the remaining food stock along with shot and powder to the Scarlet Wench, replenishing our own stores before discharging the crew. I was about to follow them when Simmons arrived with the gold for the Buxom Wench, adding that to the coffers that were now secured in my personal cabin under lock and key, along with the seventy thousand gold I had never told the crew about to prevent it being pilfered.

After that I took some doubloons my private collection, having refilled it after paying for all of the Buxom Wench’s upgrades out of pocket, and headed out myself to the local shoemaker and had a pair of black leather boots ordered, my own shoes wearing thin after months of hard use and not being new when I landed on the Badger. The shoemaker promised to have them delivered by tomorrow evening, so I paid and left after he drew out and measured my feet on paper. I’d only heard the process done once before in a book about the old frontier days, and while I would normally stay and watched wanted to buy some materials to replenish my wardrobe that was getting tore up and wore out.

In the store I bought sewing supplies and materials to make some silk shirts, cotton pants and socks, a long scarlet velvet vest to wear when not representing the king or his interests and also to help represent the ‘scarlet’ in my new ship name though I had noticed a few sailors eyeing the spot where the ship’s figurehead was supposed to be. I figured the only holdup was a lack of skill but that could change at any time.

After getting a replacement uniform jacket from the local tailor, I headed back to the Wench where I found Monica leaning on the rail near the forecastle watching the people pass by the docks. She helped me get my newly bought materials into my cabin, her eyes going up at the scarlet velvet material.

“Such a bright color,” she told me as she fingered it.

“I intend to make a vest of it,” I told her as I opened the wardrobe to bring out Hook’s long vest. “Something like this.”

“Lovely,” Monica said as she looked it over, her eyes then going to the scarlet overcoat. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” I said as she brought the overcoat out and inspected it. “Have you given any thought to using this?”

“It’s too tight in the shoulders,” I told her as she looked at the interior of it.

“Aye,” she said sadly. “Not enough material to let it out some either.”

“So, I’ll make one that fits and not steal clothes from a pirate,” I told her as she put it away.

“At least you have clothes,” Monica said as she eyed some of Hook’s other clothes.

“Didn’t they tell you about the slop chest?” I asked her and she looked shocked. “It’s full of clothes for anyone who needs them, though they all tend to be the shirts and pants of men.”

“I prefer a dress,” she said as she shook her head sadly. “Me ma would tan me hide to be caught dead wearin’ men’s clothes.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I told her as we left my cabin. “Material itself isn’t that expensive, though it takes skilled fingers to turn it into something wearable.”

“Skilled fingers I have,” she told me as she stretched her lace shawl out. “This took me half a year to knit an’ me ma was astonished I had it so fast.”

“And your lace covering?” I asked her and she smiled.

“Three months,” she said proudly. “Ma said it was vanity. I told her if I didna make somethin’ last winter I’d be gone daffy by spring.”

“Any brothers or sisters?” I asked her and she nodded.

“Two younger sisters,” she told me as she went into her room to change but I could hear her through the door. “The captain of the ship I was on said he might know of some other guys who would marry a girl sight unseen if they were interested.”

“Did they say yes?” I asked her and there was a pause.

“No,” she finally said as she stepped out, her outer lace dress still loose as she situated it on her shoulders. “Deidra is in love with a potato farmer’s son and Orla is still too young yet.”

“Ever think what you will do if your husband isn’t waiting for you?” I asked her and she looked panicked as she tied her lace sash around her waist.

“Ye think I mighta been tricked?” she said finally as she stood there.

“It’s been known to happen,” I told her. “A captain will gather several women together and take them with a minimal of payment or say he’ll get paid by the husband upon delivery.”

“What happens to the girls?” she said quickly, shock showing her face as it paled of color.

“Sold, either as maids or to brothels,” I said as she sat numbly to the table. “Those that don’t...submit...to their new masters are beaten until they do, even if they have to beat them to death.”

“Brothel,” she said, seemingly hung on that one word, tears in her eyes as she turned to me. “Does that mean...”

“Yeah,” I told her and she began to cry. I moved to give her a reassuring hug as I knelt beside her and let her cry on my shoulder as she let her fears out.

“He seemed so nice,” she said as she bawled.

“He had other women, didn’t he?” I asked her, feeling her nod as she sobbed.

“Nine,” she told me. “We were all supposed to get married when we got to Limon.”

“I hope I’m wrong and there’s a life for you in Limon,” I told her as we hugged it out but her sobs seemed neverending. “If all else fails, there’s a life for you here.”

“I just donnae know what to do here,” she wailed.

“We’ll train you for something,” I told her as I held her. “Just like Ella.”

“Really?” she asked me and I nodded, knowing she could feel it.

We hugged it out for awhile before I got Monica to calm down from her breakdown. After that she went back to her quarters to get some rest, which I think was cover for her to go cry alone for awhile. I let her go, but the question about her future still hung heavy in the air as the new information painted a dark future for her. It made me question what I would do with her, but I knew my options were limited to adding her to the roster much like Ella or giving her over to Clarion.

Shaking my head as I went into my cabin to clean up and change jackets, I decided to put the question off until I knew for certain what was going to happen. Tonight I had a meeting with Eugene and Rapunzel which was bound to be awkward as hell given the state of things at our last parting. Still, I cleaned myself up and donned the fresh jacket before adding the appropriate accouterments of my station and heading out for the governor’s mansion.

Arriving at the mansion, any ideas of a quiet meal went out the window as I saw a full gala-like event underway, almost as if I were late to the party. Simmons was still waiting by the door, but the moment he noticed me he rang a gong and I had a feeling as if I were the subject of a poorly thought out surprise party.

Entering the mansion, there was no dark room waiting for me but a line of officers, all at attention. At the head of the line was Eugene and Rapunzel, as if waiting for me as a drum began to roll. Knowing I was due a promotion, I figured this was a ceremony for it and began to walk the corridor and hoping I didn’t screw it up.

“Owen Hunt,” Eugene said as I stopped in front of him. “Today it is my honor and privilege to promote you to the rank of admiral.”

“If you would bow,” Rapunzel said as she stepped forward, a tricorn with a medallion in her hand which she settled on my head.

“Rise, Admiral Hunt, for I have one final gift due to your recent bravery,” he said as servant brought a large wooden box. The governor opened the box to reveal an ornate silver rapier and scabbard set, which he removed and offered hilt first to me. Taking that as a sign, I pulled the sword free of its scabbard, holding it up and inspecting the nearly three foot weapon. At Eugene’s smile, I halted as the scabbard was passed to Rapunzel who then hung the scabbard from my baldric. When Eugene nodded, I then replaced the rapier in the scabbard where it slid home and clicked as everyone cheered.

After that the party was in full swing where again Rapunzel and I cut a good rug on the floor as Eugene looked on as his leg still wasn’t healed enough to dance. I harbored no ideas of sleeping with Rapunzel again, even as the night wore on, but the smile on my face was real as the harpsichord was again brought out.

“What shall you play for us tonight?” Rapunzel asked as she hung on to Eugene’s arm.

“Something happy, I hope,” Eugene mused. “That last song brought tears to my eyes.”

“Then I’m glad I was able to convey the emotion of the song,” I said as I sat to the harpsichord. “Happy, you said governor? Let’s try this.”

I began to hit a C chord on the piano with my right hand, repeating it like a metronome until the eighth time where I began to sing Bette Middler’s ‘The Rose.’ It wasn’t exactly happy, not really, the story a reminder that love is eternal and should always be experienced rather than live a life alone. It was well received, Rapunzel herself glowing as she and Eugene shared a long look at each other.

“Encore!” people shouted as the clapping died down. I smiled, feeling a bit mischevious as I layed it on thick to the lovebirds and began to play Garth Brook’s ‘If Tomorrow Never Comes’ as well, a song where a guy admits that he watches his lover sleeping and asks the question that if he died in the night, would she ever doubt his love and that to counter that he makes sure that every day he tells her how much he loves her.

“I said happy!” Eugene shouted as I finished the song. With a laugh I began playing another similar song, this one by Randy Travis called ‘Deeper Than The Holler’ while changing the lyrics to erase any modern ideas they wouldn’t understand like ‘Broadway shows’ became ‘Venetian shows’ as Venice was for many years the epitomy of culture in Europe though I never changed the word holler itself as that was just where I was raised.

“Try something sad,” Rapunzel said once I had finished. I smiled mirthfully as a song came to mind that fit the theme I was running with as I played Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Always Go On,’ though the chord change and energy required for the emotion really drained me as I finished the finale.

“How many songs do you know?” Rapunzel asked as I shuttered the lid on the harpsichord to signal I was done for the night. It also seemed to signal the party was over, everyone drifting away to disappear into the night.

“Thousands,” I told her, remembering my own personal playlist numbered around two thousand on my USB chip that I always kept inserted into my rig’s radio. I knew each one by its intro and was able to jump in and sing any of them at a moments notice though there were a few that really stretched my vocal chords like Dolly Parton’s ‘I Will Always Love You,’ though I was still able to hit the high note if only in chord harmony because I was a guy singing in tenor and not an alto like most professional singers. I could however sing the entire bass to tenor scale without problem much like Tim Faust.

“How did you learn all of it?” she asked me and I smiled at that.

“I’ve been a traveler for years and I have a good affinity for music,” I told her somewhat honestly. Listening to the radio was all I had to do as a truck driver. “In my life I’ve heard hundreds of bards and other singers and some of their music I can easily remember.”

“Wow,” Rapunzel said as we all moved to a different room to leave the large dance room behind before settling into a quiet study where wine was poured by our hostess before she sat on Eugene’s lap.

“A toast,” Eugene said as he raised his glass. “To the end of piracy.”

“Here here,” I said as I raised my glass briefly before drinking.

“So, how did the battle with Hook go?” Eugene asked as he sat his glass aside.

“Swimmingly,” I told him. “Thanks to a good tip I was able to dictate the rules of the engagement to some degree, forcing Hook to fight as he wouldn’t be able to run though he did try.”

“Oh,” Eugene said as he lowered his head and listened as I recounted the battle for him.

“In the end, he surrendered when we slaughtered his men and the soldiers stood ready to obliterate him,” I told him.

“And this tip?” Rapunzel asked me. “Where did you get it.”

“Hook had his own pirate village called Neverland,” I told them. “It sits on an island southwest of here and is populated by women he’s abducted from various plundered ships.”

“Where are they now?” she asked me pointedly and I sighed.

“Still there,” I said, then held up a hand. “I’ve already asked if they wanted to leave but they weren’t ready at the time as they are waiting for a crop to grow enough to be harvested. I’ve already promised them I’d return and supplied them with food enough to last until then.”

“Good,” Rapunzel said as she bowed her head. “I didn’t want them to be forgotten.”

“Do they have any plans for when they get here?” Eugene asked me.

“I’ve offered them the use of my land to grow their crops on as Hook has them all addicted to its effects for the time being which they accepted,” I told hem and Rapunzel’s mouth fell open in horror. “Other than that, they don’t seem to have a life left in them and have expressed no desire to try and find their kin.”

“It’s like that poor girl, isn’t it?” Rapunzel asked me.

“Fairly certain,” I replied. “Maybe not quite as dead on the inside, but tarnished never-the-less. It’s the six Hook had just captured that have any desire to be with kin as they seem to have been left...physically...untouched by the pirates, though three seem hollow.”

“There’s no telling what horrors they’ve seen,” Rapunzel agreed as she downed her glass in one gulp.

“Have they at least posted letters home?” Eugene asked me and I nodded.

“As soon as we hit port,” I told him. “I paid for their delivery myself. Until then, the women have elected to stay with me under my care and protection.”

“Thank you for looking out for them,” Rapunzel told me with a warm smile.

“Speaking of,” Eugene said as he had Rapunzel stand so he could get up. He went to his desk and fetched a roll of leather he handed to me. “Deed to your land.”

“Ah, thank you governor,” I said as I tucked it under an arm before finishing my wine and standing myself.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” Rapunzel said as she grabbed Eugene’s arm and began to lead him out of the study and I gave them a mirthful smile at seeing Rapunzel’s gaze. It seemed she really did get turned on by a good piece.

Taking the deed to my land, I headed back to the Wench where it was nice and quiet as I proceeded up the ramp, but I could hear the faint whines of a woman in the middle of lovemaking as I came down the stairs into the officers area. Quietly moving through the officer’s area, I checked the doors to find it was the one furthest from my cabin and was supposed to be unoccupied which got me curious.

Cracking the door just a hair, I found it was Aladdin and Jasmine going at it, both nude and the Arabic beauty’s large chest bouncing happily with each thrust. I closed the door quietly and left them to it, figuring I should make one of them an officer at the next opportunity but realized I had a snag. Of the two, Jasmine was always the dominant and though Aladdin wasn’t spineless, his life on the street made him more pliable to stay out of trouble.

Of course, Jasmine’s main use was as a lookout, something even young Melody or Ella could do, or as a lightbulb lit over my head; Monica who desperately wanted to do something to contribute. Of course, she couldn’t do it in a dress, everything under it would be on display meaning she’d need to don pants, and that was hoping she wasn’t afraid of heights.

There was one way to find out, and that was to take her up the rigging and see how far she could go. The only question after that was, how far would I make it? I hated getting over fifteen feet up, the height of the tallest load plus me on my hands and knees as I crawled along the top.

I guess tomorrow would tell that particular tale.


	27. Wait, What?

March 25, 1660

  
  


The next morning I was served a breakfast of oatmeal and fresh-made biscuits at the captain’s table by Ella, the six girls joining me though Esmeralda and Hilda seemed ready to go back to sleep even as the crew woke up and the ship came alive. I also got to see Jasmine and Aladdin file out of their borrowed room.

“Get a good night’s sleep?” I prodded to make Jasmine blush and hurry out the door. I also figured that my peek into their borrowed room had gone unnoticed and sure as hell wasn’t going to mention it to them. I liked my head where it was.

“They do somethin’ wrong?” Monica asked as she turned to me after watching the pair leave.

“Just a married couple looking for a place to be married,” I said in a roundabout way. Monica picked up on it and chuckled herself, letting that one go as she ate her oatmeal.

“I have an idea for an easy job aboard that you might be able to handle,” I told her after I finished my breakfast, more like inhaling it as I never had time to savor anything except on a rare day.

“Really?” she asked as she looked at me.

“Jasmine, the lady who just left here, is a lookout in the crow’s nest,” I explained to her. “It’s her job to climb the shrouds to her post where she keeps an eye out for ships and anything in our path and call it out.”

“Climb?” she asked and I nodded. “I’ve never climbed anything in me life. Except the ladder to me room.”

“The shrouds are similar,” I told her as she continued to eat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up after breakfast.”

“Alright,” she agreed and I let her eat her breakfast in silence. When she was done, she followed me up to the main deck where I led her to the shrouds connected to the main mast.

“We start here,” I told her as I climbed up on the rail. Monica joined me easily enough, following with ease up to the maintop, a platform just above the mainsail.

“I donnae think I like this,” she said with a hint of terror in her voice. She glanced over the side then married her back to the mast with her eyes closed.

“Deep breaths,” I told her, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “This is what I was afraid of.”

“Bein’ so high up?” she squeaked out.

“Not everyone likes it,” I agreed with her.

“Can we go down?” she asked me though I was sure I was going to need a prybar to separate her from the mast.

“If you can find the shrouds down, you can go,” I told her and she let me guide her to the shrouds and back down. She didn’t relax until she was on the main deck which ruined all the chances I had of integrating her into the crew

I went back down to my cabin and donned my full uniform and new rapier sword, not knowing if I’d need the shiny yet deadly accessory but loving it all the same as it had a great balance and was light and easily corrected. My crew was mostly content to lounge around as I left my cabin and I was content to let them enjoy the day off as there wasn’t anything going on until tomorrow morning. Even on the main deck little was going on except Shang and Ping sitting between two cannons talking in low tones.

It wasn’t until I was down on the docks that I noticed Eugene had arrived and was talking with Admiral Bodinson. Eugene waved me over, but the grim look on his face told me something was wrong.

“Problem governor?” I said as I approached.

“Hook and his men stole a barque and have left in the middle of the night,” Eugene told me as he handed me a roll of paper. I took it and unrolled it to find it was a crude map tracing out the Caribbean with several points of interest marked out like Curacao, Puerto Cabello, and Caracas with a spot west of Curacao marked with an ‘X’ and the name Noord on what looked like an island. A sense of familiarity hit me and I realized that it was every movie criminal’s favorite vacation island, Aruba.

“Any chance of finding him?” I asked but Eugene shook his head as I rolled the paper back up.

“He has at least a ten hour lead,” Eugene told me. “The one survivor’s last words were to let us know who and he was fished out of the water ten minutes ago. How they escaped their cell is anyone’s guess.”

“Damn,” I cursed as I looked to my ship. He and his men could have taken it back with little problem while I slept and some crew like Jasmine and her husband got their rocks off. “I guess this is the location of Mayor Arendelle?”

“It is,” Eugene told me. “I guess there’s nothing left for you but to sail on the morrow.”

“If I see Hook again shall I bring him back in chains or hang him on the spot?”

“Hang and gibbet the louse,” Bodinson interjected. “Less likely to have problems returning him that way.”

“If you do it is sanctioned,” Eugene told me. “Remember, he has been found guilty of his crimes of piracy.”

“Good,” I said as we all looked around us as if needing something to do. “I guess I should probably make some provisions for having Mayor Arendelle aboard.”

“Oh yes,” Eugene said as he latched onto that idea. “Don’t forget he has two daughters as well as a wife who will be traveling with him.

“Great,” I groused as I realized I was going to have to worry with providing decent dining to the women. My thoughts went to the limitation on the culinary options and decided that I needed to talk with Colette to expand them. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to talk to my chef about some chickens.”

“You have a chef?” Bodinson asked me incredulously.

“And maids who swab my deck,” I told him with a smile. He scoffed at that, turning and leaving me alone with a laughing Eugene. 

“And soon a whole harem of women,” he said as he remembered our last conversation. “Life has been kind to you.”

“I used to think a nice ship and the open sea were all I ever wanted,” I admitted to him with a chuckle. “Sometimes I think if I want to keep things that simple I’d have to be more evil than I am now.”

“Evil,” Eugene said in a low challenging tone. “Like sleeping with a man’s wife?”

“Yeah,” I drawled but Eugene held up his hand.

“Just don’t let it happen again,” he said darkly, not even looking me in the eye. “I’d have it out with you but...” then Eugene let out a sigh before looking me in the eye, “...but she came back herself and I can finally be me.”

“She tell you everything that happened that night?” I asked him and he nodded.

“Enough of it anyway,” he finally said as he hung his head. “Not that it changes how I feel for her.”

“I’ll likely be moving my operation to Saint Martin once the new governor is installed anyway,” I told him to help pacify him. “If I can get access to land there, I won’t even bring those women here at all and cut all ties to this port.”

“My wife won’t be happy but...thanks,” he said as a bell began to peel. Eugene and I looked into the distance to see a ship coming in, but a look to Eugene told me he expected it with his smirk.

“The mail is in,” he said as the ship came closer. “Likely bringing missives from the king along with luxury goods to make the trip worthwhile.”

“I was worried it might be Hook,” I told him as we watched the ship near and dock near the Wench. A man in captain’s uniform came to Eugene and offered him several sealed letters, searching the waxed seals until he came across one that made his brow furl.

“This one is from the king,” he told me as he set the letters down in the carriage and opened the king’s letter. Eugene read it silently, a smile forming on his lips.

“Good news?” I asked him and Eugene nodded. 

“War with France has been settled,” he told me as he folded the paper back to its original shape. “So if you encounter any more vessels from them you do so without the protection of the king.”

“We’re still at war with Britain and Spain, right?” I asked him and he nodded.

“Then when I get back I shall harry them as much as I can,” I told him as Eugene finally entered his carriage and left. With nothing left to do, I went back to the Wench and hunted up Colette, finding her and Linguini conversing in French.

“Excusez-moi,” I told the pair as I tucked my tricorn under my arm. “I just learned we’ll be having four very important guests on our next voyage, two who might be quite young and not used to the rigors of a long voyage, I’d like to know if there’s anything we can do to...”

“Make our ship feel more like home?” Colette added to which I nodded. “Some chickens would be nice. Their eggs can be useful.”

“A better binder with flour,” I said, remembering that from the last time I made pancakes which made Colette nod and chuckle.

“Oui,” she said as she turned thoughtful. “We don’t really have the space for a goat.”

“And the smell,” I said shaking my head to which Colette agreed.

“Maybe if we had a hold?” she said but then shrugged her shoulders. “But a selection of chickens would do well since we make port often enough to acquire feed.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I told her as I bowed and left. 

S ince the chickens, and hopefully a goat, would be entirely ship property I decided to use ship coffers to pay for them as well. I then visited Poe, Glomgold’s secretary and arranged the purchase of eight chickens and had them delivered and secured on the forecastle,  while the grain they would eat was purchased and placed in the hold.

With nothing else to do I retired to my cabin with the maps to plot the course to Aruba. The course itself was simple enough, but I knew if I strayed too far left or right it would be a simple case of following the coast until we figured out where we were and could correct our course then. As Captain Ron would say, “If you get lost, just pull into port  and ask directions .”

Getting back was harder as there was no dedicated shoreline to follow but I was fairly certain I could at least find my way back to the Puerto Rico by splitting the difference between due north and northeast, then head due east to Saint Martin which would be easy if the wind was favorable.

After settling the courses required to make the trip, I then spent the rest of the day playing guitar on the quarterdeck  and generally relaxing. I saw my crew come and go over the day, most offering a salute to me in passing which I nodded and accepted without stopping my playing. 

After taking a nap in the afternoon and waking sometime after dark, I headed out to the head to take a leak and heard a guy grunting in rhythm from the same room I had caught Jasmine and Aladdin doing it in earlier.  I smiled a wan smile as I passed, figuring the pair were likely taking any chance they could for personal time. The brief image I had of Jasmine on her back with her bouncing rack came to mind  as I returned from the head and again heard the faint grunting and feminine moans coming from the same room.  I stopped and listened for a minute, and deciding I wanted a second peek at Jasmine’s hot nude body, moved to the door and twisted the handle.

In opening the door slightly, a sword that had been propped against it near the hinges began to slide across the width of the door as I got a shot of the action inside. Instead of seeing Aladdin and Jasmine, it was Ping on his knees with Shang behind him that I saw instead. In one of those moments that was sure to be burned into my retinas forever, I watched transfixed as Shang gave it to his little friend for several long moments before Ping turned and saw me staring from the doorway. He gave a high pitched shriek as Shang turned but it was in that moment I realized I had everything wrong as Ping pressed herself against the far wall and covered her small mounds with her arms while my eyes took in her full naked body and lack of male genitalia before I shut the door. 

I  ended up waiting at the table for a good while before the pair filed out, fully dressed and armed. Both looked scared, but I held up a hand to stop any words before they let fly.

“First off, I don’t care that you were in an officer’s cabin,” I told them before pressing on. “It doesn’t even register to me that two men should fall in love andwant to express themselves.”

The two relaxed at that, but I wasn’t through yet.

“What I do care about is honesty,” I told the pair and the tensed again, realizing I had them on at least one thing with crystal clarity. “Why lie to me about your gender, Ping, when you know full well I employ women as well as men? Haven’t you seen I care more about ability and having a person work to their fullest?”

“I...” she began to say and I let her find her words as I waited for an explanation.

“She has revealed herself in the past to not great results,” Shang informed me. “The first time was just after she saved the lives of me and my men when she caused an avalanche that killed the attacking army. She was wounded and needed medical attention, but her true identity was revealed to my superiors.”

“So you disobeyed orders?” I said, remembering him saying he would never do so willingly again. 

“How could I be honorable and kill the one who saved me and my men when we nearly fell in battle?” he countered. “My choice cost me everything in China, and I, and those that still follow me all agree we owe her our lives.”

“The last time I was revealed to be a woman, the captain of the ship was as you,” Ping said as she stepped forward. “He had women aboard and...and I thought I would be safe. Instead he tried to take me to his bed.”

“I bet that went over well,” I said sarcastically, and Shang grimaced.

“She killed him and we fled in a longboat,” Shang informed me. “We travel, ship to ship until we come here. Maybe one day we will find peace, but so far we found nothing but misery.”

“I don’t believe in forcing yourself on a woman,” I told the pair, though really my own track record with Ella was in contrast to that in a way. Still, I knew I had to proceed with the lie as I really wanted to keep them aboard as they were really good at their job. “It’s why I checked the door to make sure the woman wanted what was happening and wasn’t saying no and trying to get free. If that was the case, I’d have you keelhauled if we were at sea or thrown off my ship if we were at port.”

“I understand,” Shang told me as he looked to Ping.

“I guess I need to give my proper name,” Ping finally stated as she stood tall. “I am Fa Mulan.”

“I’ll make the note in the Articles,” I told her as I rose from the table. “Now, I’m heading for bed. You two, well the cabin is available for the night.”

I left them to hash that one out on their own, going back into my cabin to give the two love birds some privacy. In a way, I know I should feel bad for being a peeping Tom but part of me didn’t care since I had uncovered a lie in my midst. It wasn’t a major lie, but I knew now if I had a woman I needed searched that I had a good female soldier on hand to handle it and not having to rely on Jasmine for so much.

I also reflected on my own hypocrisy, never liking to lie to people and worse that  I had to do it to keep some valued crew members around.  As I thought it over, I had to admit a small portion of me had liked what I did to Ella, eve n if I would have stopped the moment she said no. And like I had told the governor, I wasn’t really an evil person even if I had slept with his wife. I was sailing for what would likely have been my last mission, one I could have easily floundered and almost did if not for Simba catching the railing with the hook to stop Hook from raking my masts to leave me defenseless and at his mercy.

Those questions in my head, Monica sprung to mind and added to my mental confusion. The poor girl had no truly marketable talents and only herself to offer anyone.  Even my own attempts at intergrating her into the crew were failing due to her beliefs and limitations though right now she was under my good graces as I tried to see her safely to a place in her life where she could be happy. But, what came after if she had nothing?

I pondered those questions the rest of the night.


End file.
